quilly - top floor lyrics
[intro: quilly]
uh, uh. yeah, it’s “quilly 3” n-gg-. huh?
don’t ever let a n-gg- tell you what you can’t do
ha, that n-gg- just a hater. negative energy
get em away from you. ha, stay focused
stay focused n-gg-, stay positive
[verse 1: quilly]
i’m at the top floor lookin’ down
thinkin “should i sh-t on n-gg-s’ that ain’t hold me down?”
look at me, f-ck n-gg-s’, let em hold a round
when you’re wavy as quilly, you ain’t suppose to drown
when your heart filled wit anger, n-gg- you’re suppose to frown
i’m bringin all my baddest b-tches, gotta show in town
i’m driving all the hottest whips, i was in them squadders
i do the mason margielas like i did the pradas
a f-cked up boyfriend; great baby father
i used to overthink my dreams like they was never real
i took that sh-t from haines street to beverly hills
shoppin’ at the beverly center
f-ckin b-tches named beverly
purple heavily.seein’ sh-t i ain’t never see
this b-tch told me she loyal
i said “you better be.”
cuz the minute you ain’t, you won’t be next to me
trunk full of dog food; pedigree, overweight lover
in the trap movin’ heavy d
got money for a rainy day, so when you n-gg-s’ throwin’ shots
i just fade away
take a trip, haha, i’m like f-ck it, take your b-tch
or take the chip, mj rings, i’m takin’ 6
pack so loud, you can smell it through compressors
work straight drop, it was cooked by professors
pimp-c pints, nothin’ more, nothin’ lesser
plastic in my pocket, but them racks in the dresser
you got your city on fire, go get on the road
this sh-t bigger than your block, go f-ck up the globe
life told “stay focused boy, go get on your mode”
my life a movie, sit back and watch the episodes
less n-gg-s’, extra hoes, you hangin’ wit mr. cooper
me and (?) blowin’ hookah, gotta stylist and a booster
my mom; i salute her, couple wh-r-s that’ll line you
some cousins that’ll shoot you wit them ladders like a roofer
we got whitney & bobby, meet me in the lobby
the percs still poppin’ cuz my brother pill cosby
steaks from del frisco’s, still go to max’s
balenciaga sneakers, i treat em like air maxes
therapeutic king size from a air mattress
your pop was a rat, that make you a rat b-st-rd
mason (?) tile on my floor: grand master
(?) like jam-master
we all gotta grave, that mean we all equal
my fans, i don’t even call fans, they’re my people
f-ckin’ wit my day 1’s, today and tomorrow
you don’t even owe me sh-t, cuz you can have it
we don’t borrow
[hook: quilly]
aye, i just wanna live my life
chillin’ in the hills all night
floatin’ in a phantom all white
if i can do it, i would do it twice
aye, all night
haha, all right
[ending: quilly]
turn me up! “quilly 3” n-gg-
yeah! 3rd time around n-gg-
uh, uh. aw! don’t take my adlibs either
haha, keep all that, keep all that, we rollin’
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