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future - who lyrics

[intro: future]
foreign cars everywhere
bad b-tches everywhere
take the tool everywhere
we make this money everywhere
everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere
these n-gg-s straight outta the hood
they going to paris
that whip that we whipping exotic
these b-tches exotic on gas

(metro boomin want some more n-gg-)

[hook: young thug]
pull up in, and hop out a foreign car
and i’m getting trailed by a foreign broad (oh)
i’m living life like an avatar
i got a stick when i pull up on y’all (oh)
who the f-ck think i’m a sucka?
who the f-ck think i won’t pull up and let loose?
(who the f-ck? who the f-ck?)
i got three b-tches with me
i’ma pull up on bleveland, they gon’ f-ck with the crew
(buenos dias aye)
who gonna stop me now? who’s gonna stop me now?
who’s gonna stop me, boy? who? (woo)
i can’t get all of you, somebody come with me
just in case you can tie shoes (woo)
how many times have i told you
if you don’t f-ck everyone that’ll be rude? (rude)
how many times have i told you
to bring me me bags and you could be cool?

[verse 1: future]
check gang
let’s have a moment of silence for n-gg-s
ain’t round with us (ha, ah, ah)
doing booking, come through (hoo)
splash on n-gg-s, on the gas on n-gg-s (yea)
in milan eating fettuccine
front row with the fashion show n-gg-s (hoo)
f-ck around and go buy a lamborghini (hoo, hoo, hoo)
i’m going nascar on n-gg-s (hoo, hoo)
puffing on the la la (yea)
i’ve been the fly guy when n-gg-s rocked izod
i’m moving chickens like popeye (oh)
old money, new money
n-gg- never getting old, threw a young n-gg- rock (hoo)
cooking up the raw dope right now
cooking up the raw dope right now
used to break down a whole ounce
used to break down a whole ounce
i gotta weigh the money up now
it’s taking too long for me to count
decisions, decisions
you f-cking with me, that’s a head on collision
them macs and them tecs and the fn’s , then 9s (brr)
we hustled, we struggled, we made it and grind
n-gg- this avatar
aye the young thug going brazy
young thug going brazy! (try me)

[verse 2: young thug]
hanna montana! banging in red bandanas (blatt, blatt)
they wanna f-ck on me
cause i get choppas with ammo (strrt)
n-gg-s gon’ hate on me
cause i’m at the top with bro though (ooh)
head honcho
hold up
kick in your mom door
shoot with the 4 4 (five)
h-ll is you doing?
hold up, wait, i can’t breathe, n-gg-
half a mil’ i done took on my street n-gg- (swear to god)
all white, thug fit, i won’t eat, n-gg- (skrrt)
run off with them keys, i won’t see them n-gg-s (skrrt)
geeked up but the money geek
i run bands up on another street
best stylist in the world can’t dress me (no)
keep a pistol just in case he wanna test me (test me)
i keep racks and all of my n-gg-s gon’ eat
i keep racks and all of my n-gg-s gon’ eat (eat)
where’s tar? man i need me some xans
i just left the beach and i’m having all the sand (hey)

- future lyrics

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