yg - million lyrics
[hook:]
said i’m ridin’ in that porsche, mind on a million
my girlfriend trippin’, so f-ck how she feelin’
’cause she don’t wear no ring, so she don’t mean sh-t
i got more money than her, so she don’t mean sh-t
said i’m ridin’ in that porsche, mind on a million
my girlfriend trippin’, so f-ck how she feelin’
’cause she don’t wear no ring, so she don’t mean sh-t
i got more money than her, so she don’t mean sh-t
[verse 1:]
said i’m ridin’ in that porsche, mind on a million
my girlfriend trippin’, so f-ck how she feelin’
she think i’m worth a million so her panties get to
peelin’
i stop and get some condoms, so i won’t have no
children
legs up in the back seat, booty in the back seat
the way a n-gg- ballin’ you would think i was an
athlete
mustard in that benzo, i’m up in that porsche, though
youse a bad b-tch, why you actin’ like a wh-r-, though?
lean by the quart load – 16 ozs
mind on a million, b-tch, f-ck you call me?
all my homies bangers, pistols ain’t no strangers
pistols ain’t no strangers, and pistols can’t taint us
ratchets in the lobby, that’s my type of party
we buy or sell gangsters, my clique don’t need n-body
rich n-gg-s eat out, p-ssy n-gg-s mia
f-ck it then i beast now, like peace out
[hook]
[verse 2:]
i’m riding in that porsche, mind on some money
n-gg-s act funny, start makin’ money
p-ssy make that label, all my n-gg-s able
pull lil’ bro and some killers on the payroll
all my n-gg-s a-holes, act like we don’t give a f-ck
i bet that shorty hit ’em up…
i had to switch it up, now i live it up
i live it hollywood, we at my house thick as f-ck
p-ssy don’t do sh-t for me, it’s just a nut
no h-m-, i can do that with my hand, b-tch, what?
b-tch i think i’m tupac, b-tch i think i’m tupac
n-gg-s talk that sh-t ’til they get their -ss popped
mamas wanna f-ck me, their daughters wanna f-ck me
thee b-tches think i’m ratchet and the n-gg-s say i’m
lucky
more racks on, couple racks gone
double racks gone, that’s 20 racks gone
[hook]
[bridge:]
i be ridin’
my n-gg-s we be ridin’
our pitchers do the fighting
so you don’t wanna rise, no
our money gets on
ciroc and patron
havin’ bad b-tches come up out they thongs
one rack gone, double racks gone
couple racks gone, that’s 20 racks gone
[hook]
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