soulja boy tell 'em - no hook (true story) lyrics
[intro]
drako! (rraow)
soulja (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
skrrt, skrrt (euh)
gang (yeah)
drako!
[verse]
pop out with draco, run up the pesos
pint by the bottle, they callin’ my chapo
i ride the lambo like i hit the lotto
i’m smokin’ cookies and sellin’ gelato
i know that most of these n-ggas be fake
p-ssy -ss n-gga get hit with the k
i’m gettin’ money, the f-ck out my face
i walk in the trap and i pour up a eight
i catch a quarter million bentley truck
whippin’ my wrist in the pot, i don’t give a f-ck
wish a n-gga well, gotta go double up
left wrist rolex, sixty thousand for my sh-t it’s frozen up
red beam on their head, i’ma hit em up
drop yo location, n-gga let’s go get it up
bust down on a bracelet
fifty thousand for my jeweler, spent it, i ain’t give no f-ck
young drako n-gga, you know i’m real n-gga
young drako n-gga you know i be trappin’, my n-gga
young drako run through the millions
young drako stack up money to the ceiling, my n-gga
had to go get a ticket
most of these n-ggas be really b-tches
twin-turbo when i skrrt this sh-t too the limit
catch me in the trap, n-gga i’m whippin’ fishes
okay, but that’s another story, back to this trap sh-t
in the trenches, put a hundred thousand in my mattress
f-ck with drako, b-tch you know i’m bout action
make the wrong move, then my n-gga start clappin’
you want a pint of drink, you know that i tax you
i’m the ceo of money gang, and n-gga we blastin’
hop in the rari, and skrrt in that aston
white maserati, same color as casper
jump in the foreign, you know it go faster
a hundred b-tches on my p, just like master
brand new rari, man i don’t do the masda
ooh i meant mazda, ooh i’m eatin’ lobsters
hundred dollar gucci shirt, i pop collar
thousand dollar gold bottle, i pop it
big draco on me, i don’t gotta c-ck it
i put a hundred bricks in helicopters
this sh-t ain’t got no hook, but i’m steady goin’
stand in that trap, and i’m makin’ it storm
tornado whip my wrist, i f-ck up my arm
two-tone cuban link, i switch up the charm
i walk in that club, and they ring an alarm
i’m seeing a junkie, i’m servin’ the bomb
giuseppe my toes, i do that for fun
i f-ck on yo b-tch while i’m grippin’ my gun
i’m throwin’ blue hundreds, i don’t throw the ones
i walk in that club, the strippers like “ooh, here he come”
hop out the rari with hundred round drum
young drako n-gga, you know where i’m from
young drako n-gga, came straight out the slums
young drako play with the pots, and the bricks, and the bon
i’m in yo b-tch mouth, right on her tongue
n-gga want beef, it’s filet mignon
i ride in the rover, i’m mixin’ the soda
they call me young drako, they call me young soulja
earring right, boulder
left ring, half quarter
bust down, new rollie
this b-tch actin’ like she know me
vvs, out the water
young drako, n-gga i’m f-ckin’ yo daughter
malibu n0ble, you know that
i rock new designer, i don’t do the throwback
when you get money, you don’t gotta show that
i see the police, i’m runnin’ a four flat
i’m hoppin’ the gate
most of these n-ggas, you know that they fake
it ain’t my birthday but you know i’m gettin’ to the cake
i put the yacht right by the lake
hit from the back, bust on her face
[outro]
young drako, n-gga
stacks on deck money gang, palm tree entertainment
gang, gang, gang
sodmg
yeah, uh
skrrt
drako
yeah
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