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young thug – numbers lyrics

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[intro]
yeah
thugger thugger
got my broadie london in this mothaf-cker man
i’m tellin’ ya this beat hard as… this one hard as f-ck, listen bro
i go up up up and away
and i got old hundreds, they wrinkled like a shar pei
plus i’m the realest n-gg- inside the a

[hook]
and them boys in atlanta they don’t play yeah
and them boys from atlanta tote them k’s yeah
and them boys from atlanta got bananas for these monkeys n-gg-
i got plenty ammo for your b-mblin’ n-gg-
ammo for these p-ssy mothaf-ckas
run up i swear to god i want tears from your mother
f-ck n-gg- tripping, i’ll get prisoned and f-ck your father up
i’ma tell em one time, ain’t going farther
i’m doing numbers

[verse 1]
i got bands in the bando and i’m beating david banner
and i’m smoking on cabana, leanin’, movin slow as grandma
motor runnin’, spent them commas, now it’s thunder
count a hundred want a hundred more, that’s hunger
yeah baby, thugger thugger hungry, yes i’m hungry
young thugger got the munchies
all my diamonds come in yellow like a funyun
yeah all my gold made ’em sick and they can vomit
yeah-yeah… p-ssy n-gg- know they can vomit
i’m growing green, me and chi-chi, no pet
i’m chasing dreams, free meek milly

[hook]
and them boys in atlanta they don’t play yeah
and them boys from atlanta tote them k’s yeah
and them boys from atlanta got bananas for these monkeys n-gg-
i got plenty ammo for your b-mblin’ n-gg-
ammo for these p-ssy mothaf-ckas
run up i swear to god i want tears from your mother
f-ck n-gg- tripping, i’ll get prison and f-ck your father
i’ma tell em one time, ain’t going farther
i’m doing numbers

[verse 2]
i’ma tell em one time
i can read your mind
pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, then start ridin
brand new 24’s, b-tch on climb
you’s a busta, mothaf-cka rhymes
sticky fingers, no porcupine
genius i’ll chase the day
wait, let me pick up his remains
hey, them gators get their prey
hold up, hold up, wait

[hook]
and them boys in atlanta they don’t play yeah
and them boys from atlanta tote them k’s yeah
and them boys from atlanta got bananas for these monkeys n-gg-
i got plenty ammo for your b-mblin’ n-gg-
ammo for these p-ssy mothaf-ckas
run up i swear to god i want tears from your mother
f-ck n-gg- tripping, i’ll get prison and f-ck your father
i’ma tell em one time, ain’t going farther
i’m doing numbers



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