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ft neef buck freeway - numbers (ft. neef buck) - freeway lyrics

20 bottles of spade, 10 pin, 10 go,
ben franlkin bank hoe,
backstroking on new hoes, you know
dropped the olds and got new clothes
now check a boy my calla, same thing with my lenses
i like mgm and my benzes, and meek sh-t my women
she don’t speak in no english, and she don’t eat pork
my new b-tch use chop sticks, she don’t eat with a fork
i’m throwing rocks at the wall, so everyday i ball
you understand that language, when you out there slanging
when you’re taking them trips, looking over your shoulder
i just run back a dub, stash box in the wall, let’s work

[hook]
numbers low, numbers high,
ain’t n-body f-cking got it and you wonder why
numbers high, numbers low
if the chicken right, then hurry up and get it oh
lado, blow numbers, mathematician, we know numbers
we got range rove numbers, spend that get more numbers
been here 14 winters, will be here 10 more summers
my watch shine, my piece flooded
my money right, it keep coming

uno, dos, tres, quatro, ishi, ni, sun, chi, one, two, three to the fizor
whole bricks we flip dali, we get numbers in different languages
it’s mac 10’s, mac 11’s, take 9’s my click is dangerous
house sh-t, no super vision, rock true religions,
don’t f-ck with ringlet, let’s move piles
don’t f-cking play with the same guys
no bow ties, just black guys, with 45’s
you dare with them, you f-cking lay with them
we are for sure though, y’all haters are counterfeit
everyday we calculate, yes we doing calculus
make y’all haters run, just to show y’all deuces who’s house this is
hustle when we make it count, y’all hustle don’t count for sh-t

let me phone posits, coole site
where them pennies once them b-tches hurt my feet
if the lime from the dime, i might take a week
and i can fill a f-cking duffle bag in my sleep
i’m getting it, i’m spending it, purple label sh-t limited
dropping 9’s, bringing back a dozen
n-gg- that’s 3 hard extra onions
i take a 7 out, and put the 7 in
i drop the fish scale, and watch you still swimming

sh-t backstrocking, it’s breast stroking
turn ex smokers to new smokers
the sh-t raw, fiends smell it, they come soon as that pack open
i cook it soon as that brick open
they pay me soon as they shift over
i bag it up, drop it off, jump in the whip and i’m back floating
my younging, clap off, and they stay getting that tax off
always, banging, no home training at all
mid lie, winners lie, but numbers don’t so don’t act hard
i will have 30 n-gg-s on your front porch, back yard

- ft neef buck freeway lyrics

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