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waka flocka flame - hi-jackin' planez lyrics

[verse 1]
is it me or i’m tripping? them folks on my phone
when i talk, i hear echoes in the background, homes
looked out my window, seen a black tahoe
dark tint, two guys, two black suits
they say i’m wanted for third degree swag
drop twenty in louis, another thirty in gucci
saks fifth shawty all i do is shop
rollie on my left wrist would make a n-gga jaw drop
brick squad monopoly, this is it
the way the girl lockjawing d-ck, she’s like a f-cking pit
they say life’s a b-tch, so i’m fingerf-cking it
with a finger condom on ’cause i don’t trust sh-t

[chorus]
put your lighters in the air, put your red cups up
blowing backwoods back to back, i’m f-cked up
hijacking planes, three years in the game
got the money and the fame, but ain’t nothing really changed
b-tches on my d-ck, cell phone keeps jumping
police out the window, man, they think a n-gga hustling
i’ma keep grinding, i’ma keep grinding
i’ma keep grinding, i’ma keep grinding

[verse 2]
you want me for a feature? that’s one brick
shows going for two bricks, told her snort it off my d-ck
all i know is grind, go get it with it
you can tell we them bangers soon as i pulled down the brim
where i’m from, n-ggas rob their kin
you can’t even trust a b-tch or your best friend
riverdale, n-gga, this like compton
our pistols always barking, my n-gga, we get it popping
you can feel the tension soon as i walk in the building
‘rarri sit low to the earth, call it caterpilling
i’ma keep it grinding, n-gga, don’t stop
in this industry, lames get all the credit

[chorus]
put your lighters in the air, put your red cups up
blowing backwoods back to back, i’m f-cked up
hijacking planes, three years in the game
got the money and the fame, but ain’t nothing really changed
b-tches on my d-ck, cell phone keeps jumping
police out the window, man, they think a n-gga hustlinh
i’ma keep grinding, i’ma keep grinding
i’ma keep grinding, i’ma keep grinding

[verse 3]
i don’t care ’bout no “he say, she say”
chase this money, love dineros like my f-cking dj
lap full of weed, riding on the freeway
y’all n-ggas industry, i do this sh-t the g way
i’m a boss, p-ssy n-gga, ’bout that gun play
self-made, triple b’s, n-gga, all day
can’t do it with the glock, then get my brother k
all white diamonds on my neck, call it lisa raye
i’ma be okay, i don’t need too much
just a red cup and one vanilla dutch
put your lighters in the air if you’re f-cked up
flocka give three f-cks, remy martin, pour me up

[chorus]
put your lighters in the air, put your red cups up
blowing backwoods back to back, i’m f-cked up
hijacking planes, three years in the game
got the money and the fame, but ain’t nothing really changed
b-tches on my d-ck, cell phone keeps jumping
police out the window, man, they think a n-gga hustlinh
i’ma keep grinding, i’ma keep grinding
i’ma keep grinding, i’ma keep grinding

[outro]
waka flocka, n-gga
ain’t no blackballing me, n-gga
flocka
grinding, i’ma keep grinding
i’ma keep grinding, f-ck n-gga [?]

- waka flocka flame lyrics

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