wale - fuck em' lyrics
[verse 1: rick ross]
c-note after c-note, put the remix on my kilo
thought i wouldn’t make it, now i’m winning — timothy tebow
fourth quarter, i’m back; fourth quarter, in fact
fourth quarter, that sack; fourth ward in all black
i said boss and i meant that; advance, you spent that
corvette so clean you’ll think bruce springsteen rid that
cars just like sneakers, just got me ten pair
dubai, i been there — but f-ck that, we in here
roll up and inhale, i live next to denzel
alonzo, my condo cost three mil’, this sh-t real
iphone and ipad, air max, and my gat
left hand got ten bands; back pocket, four stacks
all i need is bad hoes, all these n-ggas gon’ rat
half these n-ggas working now, they knocked it down, they’re going back
all i need is benzos, squatting on lorenzos
stack my money tenfold, make this my new temple
[hook: rick ross]
f-ck em, f-ck em, i’m screaming f-ck em
f-ck em, f-ck em, i’m screaming f-ck em
f-ck all you haters
watch me f-ck all these b-tches
i got eight different rollies
and they all mint condition
i’m screaming f-ck em, f-ck em, i’m screaming f-ck em
f-ck em, f-ck em, i’m screaming f-ck em
i got five different benzes
this is my deposition
i’m screaming, “f-ck every witness”
cause b-tch, i’m big business
i’m screaming f-ck em
[verse 2: 2 chainz]
‘migo hit my boost, ‘migo hit my boost
what you know about walking in the gucci store and they salute?
chain cost a coupe, coupe cost a crib
riding with the chopper, like it’s my friend
this for real n-ggas only, i still bet with kobe
got a sign in my garage that say, “foreign only”
four zips pouring, on mixtapes i’m touring
see my sh-t that fire sh-t, and yo’ sh-t boring
i’m chain smoking loud like it’s a newport
dad wasn’t around — my father figure was too short
new porsche, deuced up, two cups got juice in it
two forks, two pots, i could whip it both-handed
my girl is bow-legged, just do it like bo jackson
every beat i’m toe-tagging, charm big as a volkswagon
money got me sagging, it really doesn’t matter
i run circles round these n-ggas’ world like saturn
[hook]
[verse 3: wale]
black foamposites, it’s like we on that mobbing sh-t
riding five deep and i’m as dirty as them congressmen
sixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new sh-t
ironic since my drive increased, my driver see the profit
yeah, work, f-ck you n-ggas, pay me though
smoke that mark mcgwire strong, oakland ain’t no basic smoke
shout-out to your lady, a.k.a. mmg favorite ho
tell that -ss the way to go before i show her where to go
no canseco, and i’m switching lanes at one six oh
a n-gga trees fine — a police siren!
woop woop — nah, that’s just diplo
and you cute, shorty; let’s get low
on the low, i’mma talk that jazz
jungle fever for the night
h-rny or white, that’s anglo-sax
[hook]
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