• Tag Archives Blac Chyna
  • K. Michelle – Kim K

    [Verse 1]
    Look
    Why when I do this shit they mad
    When they do this shit they glad
    On my way to get that bag
    No discounts on 5th Ave.!
    Black girl who’s angry
    Media can’t stand me
    I may never get this Grammy
    But I’mma feed my family!
    It’s just me and my bitches
    Swear I just love when it don’t have to be ’bout no niggas
    I get to be in my feelings
    Talkin’ that talk, I’m bout to walk in my thoughts, listen!
    Wuzzup with all you black women?
    I date a black man named Idris
    You say "[I’m] ghetto, he trippin,"
    You’d rather him with white women
    How you don’t like me, no
    When you just like me, oh!
    I know it must hurt
    He fuck with me and he don’t want her!
    That’s why I should be the bridge for you bitches
    That’ll help you to get over these niggas!

    [Bridge]
    ‘Cause I don’t trust no one like that
    And I ain’t gotta get you back
    I let God handle you hoes
    Said a prayer for you on the low

    [Chorus]
    Wish I could be a Kardashian so I could be black
    They ask if it’s real, I say it’s real fat
    Don’t get caught up in facts ’cause ain’t shit real
    And ain’t shit funny, so fuck how you feel!

    [Verse 2]
    O-o-o-ohhhhh
    Why couldn’t Sylvia sign me over B5
    Why all these percocets got me feelin’ so alive
    I don’t know why-y-y
    I gotta fuck with Blac Chyna
    She’s such a lion, no Tyga
    She’s just a constant reminder
    Niggas will sponsor vagina
    I ain’t trippin’, no
    No time, I’m too busy gettin’ it on my own!

    [Bridge]
    ‘Cause I don’t trust no one like that
    And I ain’t gotta get you back
    I let God handle you hoes
    Said a prayer for you on the low

    [Chorus]
    Wish I could be a Kardashian so I could be black
    Put my face over Pac, wear my braids to the back
    Throw a filter on that, ’cause ain’t shit real
    And ain’t shit funny, so fuck how you feel!

    [Outro]
    O-o-o-ohhhhh, oh
    Wish I could be a Kardashian, so I could be black
    Ooooh yeahhhh, oh…


  • Money showers – Fat Joe feat. Remy Ma lyrics

    Lyrics Fat Joe – Money showers

    Understand, they gotta understand a nigga
    Got her on the town
    Every time I’m in your city, make ’em understand
    You know how this shit gon’ blow up whenever I’m in town
    Whenever I’m in town
    Yeah, understand, they gotta understand a nigga
    Got her on the town
    Every time I’m in your city, make ’em understand
    You know how this shit gon’ blow up whenever I’m in town
    Whenever I’m in town.(money showers)

    Money showers, rain, rain, rain, rain
    Whole lotta money showers, rain, rain, rain, rain.

    10 bands for the prettiest b*tch
    No hands if you really the shit
    My nigga pretty new drop the music, he got something to say
    Got her staring at the pole like election day
    I make it rain on them hoes, I got that Amber vision
    We in the back of the Rolls, her and Blac Chyna kissing
    Give me a slice of the cake, I made it shower with dough
    That’s a whole lotta bread, you know it had to be Joe
    Cathedral ceilings in the crib, got sinners in it
    I had b*tches eating pussy like it’s dinner in it
    No lie, see everything Gucci, we steady mobbing
    Who else could turn a stripper into Tonya Harding?

    Understand, they gotta understand a nigga
    Got her on the town
    Every time I’m in your city, make ’em understand
    You know how this shit gon’ blow up whenever I’m in town
    Whenever I’m in town
    Yeah, understand, they gotta understand a nigga
    Got her on the town
    Every time I’m in your city, make ’em understand
    You know how this shit gon’ blow up whenever I’m in town
    Whenever I’m in town.

    Money showers, rain, rain, rain, rain
    Whole lotta money showers, rain, rain, rain, rain.

    See you gotta understand I’m bad enough to take your husband
    b*tch I f*ck your man then give him back when I’m done, ugh
    Front of my pussy on the back of his tongue
    I ain’t had love for a nigga since what happened to Pun
    So if he f*ck around and I don’t happen to cum
    Nigga you can be my ex, that’s where I’m from
    Man these funny style b*tches, I be laughing at them
    Hoes be grabbing his dick, I be grabbing his gun
    Walking out the court, thumbs up, Jon Gotti
    On my ’93 Biggie shit, bullshit and party
    b*tch claiming she the queen, what? Not hardly
    Who the f*ck gave you your crown b*tch? Steve Harvey?

    Understand, they gotta understand a nigga
    Got her on the town
    Every time I’m in your city, make ’em understand
    You know how this shit gon’ blow up whenever I’m in town
    Whenever I’m in town
    Yeah, understand, they gotta understand a nigga
    Got her on the town
    Every time I’m in your city, make ’em understand
    You know how this shit gon’ blow up whenever I’m in town
    Whenever I’m in town.

    Money showers, rain, rain, rain, rain
    Whole lotta money showers, rain, rain, rain, rain

    Rain, rain, rain, rain
    Rain, rain, rain, rain
    (Why don’t all the ?)
    (But why don’t all the treat her?)
    (Why?)
    (But I like honesty what have I done to youuu?)
    Fat Joe lyrics
    Video showers


  • Kanye West – Highlights (The Life Of Pablo Album)

    [Intro: Young Thug and Kanye West]
    High lights
    Tell my baby I’m back in town
    High lights
    Tell everybody I’m back in town
    High lights
    Tell my baby I’m back in town
    High lights
    We only makin’ the highlights
    Tell my mama, tell my mama, that I only want my whole life to only be highlights
    We only makin’ the highlights
    Tell my mama, tell my mama, that I only want my whole life to only be highlights
    Can we play that back one time?
    And after that night I’m gon’ wanna play shit back, I don’t know
    Sometimes I’m wishin’ that my dick had GoPro
    So I could play that shit back in slo-mo
    I just shot an amateur video; I think I should go pro
    We only makin’ the highlights
    We only makin’ the highlights
    Tell my mama, tell my mama, that I only want my whole life to be mine

    [Bridge: El Debarge]
    One life, one night
    High lights
    Livin’ the life ’til I die

    [Verse 1: Kanye West]
    I bet me and Ray J would be friends
    If we ain’t love the same bitch
    Yeah, he might have hit it first
    Only problem is I’m rich
    Uh
    21 Grammys, superstar family
    We the new Jacksons, I’m all about that action
    I’m about that Farrakhan
    Life is a marathon
    I’ma shift the paradigm
    I’ma turn up every time
    I’ma bust a coach’s head open on some Diddy shit
    If he ever talk to my son like an idiot
    One time for a nigga really gettin’ it
    Two times cause we got the whole city lit
    Advice to all my niggas, impregnate Bridget
    Soon as she have a baby she gon’ make another nigga
    Got the Fruit of Islam in the trenches hah?
    Even though they know Yeezus is a Christian hah?
    She spent her whole check on some Christians
    And that girl ain’t even religious
    Walkin’, livin’, breathin’, girl you know my past well
    Hard to believe in God, your nigga got killed
    Blac Chyna fuckin’ Rob, help him with the weight
    I wish my trainer would, tell me what I overate
    So when I’m on vacay, I need to kick back
    What you want?
    You want a boss or an R&B nigga with a six pack?
    I need every bad bitch up in Equinox
    I need to know right know if you a freak or not
    I need every bad bitch up in Equinox
    I need to know right know if you a freak or not

    [Outro: The-Dream]
    I need every bad bitch up in Equinox
    I want to know right know if you a freak or not
    I need every bad bitch up in Equinox
    I want to know right know if you a freak or not
    Oh lord, oh lord
    I need every bad bitch up in Equinox
    I want to know right know if you a freak or not
    Bad bitch up in Equinox
    I want to know right know if you a freak or not
    Oh lord, oh lord


  • Game – 92 Bars (1992 Album) letras

    [Verse]
    This that sick rap, kick back, come to where I pitch at
    Where bitches love The Game like Tyson Beckford six pack
    Presidential Rollie, nigga, where your wrist at?
    I can kill you in four bars, that’s a Kit Kat
    Did the Lambo my way with a sick wrap
    Smooth as Frank Sinatra with a motherfucking slick back
    No rats in my pack, ain’t no wrinkles in my slacks
    Counting singles in my Shaqs, stacking Pringles from the crack
    Nigga I was on the bus with it
    Had 12 stuck to my chest in the field with the colt
    Andrew Luck with it
    We had the rock, hit the block like what’s up with it
    Jay was in the Z, my young gunnas in the truck with it
    Sigel would’ve loved it, Philly would’ve fucked with it
    California state property you niggas stuck with it
    Brrrring, sold Peedi Crakk
    Game was on the block in his beanie with a Mac
    I’m what you rap niggas ‘fraid of
    A Compton nigga that could go bar for bar with Jada
    Let me tell you who suck, like banana Now or Laters
    Blac Chyna head the bomb, al-Qaeda
    Listen, you want beef I’ll cater
    Game snap on everything he like a fucking wild gator
    Silver and black Ghost, nigga that’s Al Davis
    Give me Left Eye back, take Fetty Wap and the Raiders
    The Rams is back, them bullets getting tossed
    16 on your back like you fucking Jeff Goff
    Your man acting girly too put 30 on his chest
    Kanye shrug bitch, welcome to the west
    YG, Nipsey, and Kendrick yea check
    Shout ’em out I just do it like a fucking Nike rep
    Bentley truck Chuck, with the Henny cupped up
    Don’t get me fucked up, you see the semi tucked, duck
    Pass the Goose, where them duck ducks?
    These hoes foaming at the mouth, they got Penny fucked up
    I’m ’bout to poke ’em like a cactus
    Told that bitch to roll the Philly for the game, and she talking about practice
    The Maybach is A.I
    Artificial intelligence motherfucker that’s Junior Seau
    All my doors suicide, I’m in Vegas shoot the five
    Tell the dealer pay me don’t be shy he ain’t from Do or Die
    Now do you wanna ride, back seat of my Caddy?
    Used to flip them pies ain’t no relation to Patti
    And I move Ps, ain’t no relation to Swaggy
    Before that it was missing teeth and nickel sack baggies
    That’s caine, no daddy cause I ain’t really have one
    And you can’t call yourself dope if you ain’t never bag none
    I’m the old DMX you niggas Drag-On
    Game raw as fuck like poking holes in the Magnum
    Used to ether the niggas in all of my 16s
    Now I scare ’em once a year like I’m fucking Halloween
    This ain’t a dream, nigga hurricane a nightmare
    Stab you in your sleep and smack your baby out his highchair
    Your daddy was a bitch, I had to do it
    I ain’t need no ski mask to do it
    Murder is Rihanna and I’m attracted to it
    Name a state, I’ll send a package through it
    If the fed hack into it, they get bossed on like I’m Massachusetts
    Sitting in this Maybach with music
    Your head is like Mustard beat and I’ll put the ratchet to it
    PARTY sent my jackas to it
    Drama bring the Mac into it
    And this scope will get your mouth washed when I attach it to it
    Gold on my neck, I make your bitch put her back into it
    Usain Bolt if you bring a real track into it
    Another classic moving the way to Aftermath to do it
    Dre had the Chronic all I did was put the matches to it
    Traffic moving backwards through it
    Ever since I had the Buick
    Known for putting cheese on niggas heads the way the Packers do it
    And I had the yay, yea I brought crack to music
    Every situation in rap, I’ve been a savage through it
    And all these hoes getting mad cause I’m smashing through ’em
    They can get a ring one day, if the Cavs can do it
    Be LeBron bitch, I’m Jayceon bitch
    Who else you seen parked at the swap meet in James Bond shit?
    Another foreign car driven by a convict
    Aventador matte black Akon lips
    Nas ether niggas, Game napalm shit
    Niggas say my name I pop up like the State Farm bitch
    No nigga can see me, on or off TV
    Gun by them Yeezys, I’m the 6′ 5″ Eazy
    Lightskin bitches be mad and talking greasy
    I’ma start fucking them Dej Loafs and Dreezy’s
    I’ma start beefing with Cole, Drizzy and Cornrow Kenny
    Or you could pick your favorite rapper, and he gon’ be pouring out Henny
    I got a bitch from Minne-Apolis pack a semi
    Bang the ratchet at Denny’s and fly herself back to Philly
    She got a couple mill and she don’t even know Meek
    And ever since that nigga snitched on me we just don’t speak
    See that shit you got with Drake is like a slow leak
    Blood’ll be dripping like Niagara if I poke Meek
    Nicki won’t get no sleep, I’m coming through at 4 a.m
    Four deep, to leave his dead body on the soaked sheets
    It could happen lowkey
    You better have Ross call me or you gon’ be eye level with a roach feet
    This ain’t a diss, nigga
    This is all lives matter except this nigga’s
    This 1992 shit ain’t no new shit
    We in that all black you won’t know who Blood and who Crip
    With guns big enough to sink a fucking cruise ship
    Fuck around and be a news clip with them loose lips
    My nigga Drizzy packed you out and you ain’t do shit
    This the Golden State and my shooters ain’t on no hoop shit
    Nigga, you know that I’ll snap you like a toothpick
    And snitching on niggas ain’t never been no cool shit
    And I’ve been wanting to give Nicki this pool stick
    So tell your lil’ vivrant thing come fuck with Q-Tip
    We know where you live, nigga, you better move quick
    And start thinking twice about who you hop in the coupe with