• Tag Archives Ric Flair
  • Young Thug – Slimed In Lyrics

    [Chorus: Nechie]
    What’s your kind then, yeah my slimes in
    All these diamonds, fuck you thought? (fuck you thought?)
    Wipe your nose clean, fuck your whole team
    We don’t spare a thing, knock ’em off
    What’s your kind then, yeah my slimes in
    All these diamonds, fuck you thought?
    Wipe your nose clean, fuck your whole team
    We don’t spare a thing, knock ’em off

    [Verse 1: Nechie]
    Fuck you thought? (fuck you thought?), we won’t walk (we won’t walk)
    Take ’em down, knock ’em off (knock ’em off)
    Yeah my slimes wit me, I was born tinted
    You can see who in it, presidential limit
    You can see we winnin’, fuck you thought? (fuck you thought?)
    I put VVS’ in my mouth (in my mouth)
    Straight out the south (out the south), I got clout
    I’m with chain gang, now I’m out (now I’m out)
    You ain’t gang gang gang, take ’em out (take ’em out)
    I got gang for a lane, fuck you thought?
    Bitch I’m slicker than a muh, get it out the soil
    Insane with them cutters, who want war with the boy?

    [Chorus: Nechie]
    What’s your kind then, yeah my slimes in
    All these diamonds, fuck you thought (fuck you thought?)
    Wipe your nose clean, fuck your whole team
    We don’t spare a thing, knock ’em off
    What’s your kind then, yeah my slimes in
    All these diamonds, fuck you thought? (fuck you thought?)
    Wipe your nose clean, fuck your whole team
    We don’t spare a thing, knock ’em off

    [Verse 2: Young Thug]
    I’m in Balmain, it didn’t cost a thing
    I’m not 2 Chainz, I got forty (I got forty)
    I bust your brain, since we speakin’ of brain
    Make your hoe give brain then get lost (then get lost)
    I paint her face, you can call me Cozy
    Fuck a Ric Flair, I got 70 Rollies
    I rock big [checks?], Chinchilla minks, when she cozy
    You ain’t gang gang gang gang gang, why you talkin’?
    I bought 20 cars for every year that I was walkin’
    Made her get an abortion, she ain’t nothing but a thottie
    And I got way better bitches ’round I can lock in, I’m still bossin’

    [Chorus: Nechie]
    What’s your kind then, yeah my slimes in
    All these diamonds, fuck you thought? (fuck you thought?)
    Wipe your nose clean, fuck your whole team
    We don’t spare a thing, knock ’em off
    What’s your kind then, yeah my slimes in
    All these diamonds, fuck you thought? (fuck you thought?)
    Wipe your nose clean, fuck your whole team
    We don’t spare a thing, knock ’em off

    [Verse 3: Nechie]
    Nechie slang slang slang, ain’t gon waste no time
    Boy you ain’t my kind, I get cheese, you drop dimes
    Prezi diamonds on my wrist, my neck, my ear (yeah)
    Nechie Houdini, I make him disappear (oh yeah)
    Get you knocked out (nah), cut the top out (off)
    Fuck twelve, yeah we smashin’ on a cop car (cop car)
    I’m out on bail sippin’ clean, yeah that real raw (raw)
    I’m a thug, I don’t give no damn about no DA or no judge
    I get it out the mud (yeah yeah)
    Step off in your club and throw a dub (yeah yeah)
    Give ’em hell (hell), I might call Lil Baby for a bale, don’t need no scale (scale)
    Southside, youngin’ on my side on the mayor


  • Kanye West – 4th Dimension lyrics

    [Intro: Louis Prima]
    Down the chimney, he will come
    With his great big smile
    And you’ll find that even the kiddies
    Are swingin’ in the latest style
    Oh, oh, oh
    What is Santa bringing?
    Oh, oh, oh
    I wonder whether he’ll be swingin’

    [Verse 1: Kanye West]
    It feels so good it should cost
    Bought an alligator, I ain’t talkin’ Lacoste
    Made me say, “ooh, uh”
    Like I’m mixing Master P and Rick Ross (uh,uh)
    She seem to make me always feel like a boss (uh,uh)
    She said I’m in the wrong hole, I said I’m lost (uh,uh)
    She said I’m going too fast, I’m exhausted
    Now drop to your knees for the offerin’
    This the theme song, oh something wrong
    Might need a intervention for this new dimension
    That’s too new to mention, offer it in a sentence
    If I get locked up, I won’t finish the sent-

    [Sample: Louis Prima]
    Oh, oh, oh
    What is Santa bringin’?
    Oh, oh, oh
    I wonder whether he’ll be swingin’

    [Laughter]

    [Verse 2: Kid Cudi]
    Gettin’ loose while I’m on the deuce, see me roll up
    What you surfin’ the coast, and I spend it, I got
    Plenty of bitches for the evening, we could journey we off
    For the light that got us home, we in the moment oh oh
    Such a lost boy, caught up in the darkest I had
    What’s the cost, boy? Losing everything that I had
    She been on me boy, unless you got something to tell
    Sittin’, waitin’ for me slippin’, yeah I’ll see you in hell
    Tell the cougar get up off me, no my soul ain’t for sale
    All the evils in the world I keep it on me for real
    I really hope the Lord won’t hurt me, we all live in sin
    Kids see ghost of the Rolls, Ric Flair on your bitch
    Now this the theme song, this the theme song
    The put the beams on, get your, get your dream on
    But you don’t hear me though, drama: we let it go
    Watch the guitars roll and let your friends know

    [Sample: Louis Prima]
    Oh, oh, oh
    What is Santa bringin’?
    Oh, oh, oh
    I wonder whether he’ll be swingin’

    [Outro: Shirley Ann Lee]
    Just do that and then let the music do something, then do that again, that’d be enough for a record
    I mean, you only want two and a half minutes if you can get it, you know, three minutes max—


  • Yung Gravy – Knockout Lyrics

    [Intro]
    Gravy!
    Ay ay ay ay ay
    Gravy train nature boy Ric Flair pop shit
    Think I’m Randy Savage when I hit you with that drop kick

    [Chorus]
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out

    [Verse 1]
    Ay bitch gravy back in business
    Flexin on your mama till its motherfucking Christmas
    I could take your bitch while I’m wearing all Gap
    I could walk into your label take a nap
    And still get racks
    Dr. J fuck your sister everyday (ay)
    I just beat your dad 5 times in croquet (ay ay)
    Gravy don’t play (bitch)
    Cook up a fucking fillet (bitch)
    I had a coochie buffet
    Back where I stay shit was gourmet (bitch)
    Yung Gravity I come and pull your bitch (pull your bitch)
    Your mama’s fantasy I come and scratch that itch (scratch that itch)
    You a blasphemy if you be talking shit (talking shit)
    Yung Catastrophe, landslide on your bitch (Woah)

    [Chorus]
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out

    [Verse 2]
    Bitch, it’s Mr. Clean, call me Dr. Pristine
    When I walk across the water make it steam
    I got water, I got trees, I got salsa, I got steeze
    When I walk up in the building everyone get on they knees
    Gravy make you feel like you off of the narcotics
    When you really at your crib sipping Bombay with the tonic
    Whenever I start talking, man that shit sounds so harmonic
    Jumped through your bitch quick, think I’m fucking Sonic
    Icicle mentality
    Southern hospitality
    Your sister’s ass got a lack of proportionality
    Hit it anyway despite the impracticality
    Gravy come through finesse your home, municipality

    [Chorus]
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out
    Hop in, walk out
    Pipe up, clock out
    New wrist, watch out
    Lil bitch that’s a knock out


  • 21 Savage, Offset & Metro Boomin – Ric Flair Drip

    Bijan 4 The 1 Time
    Metro Boomin’ want some more, nigga!

    [Offset:]
    Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah
    Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah
    I’m tryna fuck you and your bestie, yeah
    Chopper with the scope so do not test me, yeah
    Ric Flair drip go "woo" on a bitch
    Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist
    Multi-million dollar, I’m a fool with the hits
    Hop up in the Lamb, and drop the roof, show the tits

    Poppin’ but you really not ‘gone shoot
    Ninety pointers [?] my diamonds look like hula hoops
    Hope in my Bentayga, Hennessy [?] masseuse
    Balenciaga, [?], Valentino boots
    It’s the Boominati way, a lotta Lambs, a lotta Wraiths
    Never hesitate to give a nigga yellow tape
    And worry ’bout the bag ’cause the cash accumulate
    Soon as we came in the game, all these niggas they imitate
    Put my mind on it then I put my grind on it
    Put the iron on it, if a nigga my opponent
    My car five-hundred and I don’t put no miles on it
    I was runnin’ ’round homie, with five-hundred thou’ on me

    Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah
    Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah
    I’m tryna fuck you and your bestie, yeah
    Chopper with the scope so do not test me, yeah
    Ric Flair drip go "woo" on a bitch
    Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist
    Multi-million dollar, I’m a fool with the hits
    Hop up in the Lamb, and drop the roof, show the tits

    Told the fam, "Got the gang with me"
    Bought my purple [?], got some rain on it
    Nigga, we used to kick it, how you hatin’ on me
    Hop in the Bentley coupe and blow the brains out it
    We not the same, my nigga
    My nigga, we from the north division
    Amateur brain, yeah we bought ya just like it’s an auction, ain’t it
    Beat the chopper, hundred round total, like it’s apocalypse
    I met your mandatory, I’m told that means I had to get it
    My shooter keep begging "please," he’s ready to wack a nigga
    I gave a nigga a diamond, I had to cap a nigga
    I’m giving your ho away, like she a raffle, nigga
    We go at it, then we ‘gone play with the plastic stretchers

    Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah
    Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah
    I’m tryna fuck you and your bestie, yeah
    Chopper with the scope so do not test me, yeah
    Ric Flair drip go "woo" on a bitch
    Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist
    Multi-million dollar, I’m a fool with the hits
    Hop up in the Lamb, and drop the roof, show the tits

    Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah
    Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah
    I’m tryna fuck you and your bestie, yeah
    Chopper with the scope so do not test me, yeah
    Ric Flair drip go "woo" on a bitch
    Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist
    Multi-million dollar, I’m a fool with the hits
    Hop up in the Lamb, and drop the roof, show the tits


  • Boss – Lil Pump lyrics

    Lyrics Lil Pump – Boss

    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, yeah
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeahhh
    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
    Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
    Walk in the trap like a boss
    Walk in the trap like a boss, oooh
    Walk in the trap like a boss
    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, ooh
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, oohhh.

    Walk in the trap, Ric Flair, ooh
    f*ck a nigga b*tch don’t care, damn
    Throwin’ up racks in the air, damn
    Told that b*tch Lil Pump yeah, ooh
    Damn, I just broke my wrist
    100 on my wrist, can’t tell me s**t
    Pop 4 xans then I f*cked a nigga’s b*tch
    Never wearin’ slippers, I always flippin’ bricks
    Aye, yeah I came up with the sauce damn
    Damn, yeah I sold crack in the halls, damn
    Lil Pump, bands on top
    Gave my mom 2 Glocks
    Versuri-lyrics.info
    Damn, everybody do wanna be me
    Lookin’ at my neck and its Fiji, ooh
    Damn, everybody do wanna be me
    Lookin’ at my neck and its Fiji, ooh.

    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, yeah
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
    Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
    b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeahhh.
    Lil Pump lyrics
    Video Lil Pump


  • Juicy J – Ain’t Nothing Lyrics

    [Intro: Juicy J]
    Yeah, uh huh
    Nigga I got the black car from the Spike Lee film

    [Verse 1: Juicy J]
    This that higher level stunting, make it rain a lot of hundreds
    Gave that chick 30k to go get rid of her stomach
    I’m a triple OG nigga 20 years and running
    All my niggas down to ride like crash test dummies
    And J don’t stand in line, I ain’t never never had to wait
    I’m the realest in this game, I ain’t never had to fake
    Forgiatos on the classic like that bitch got on some skates
    Having dinner with Obama smelling like a pound of hay
    I might blow a pound a day, smoking KK like a hippie
    In the 60’s with this chick, tryna give my dick a hickey
    Had to get it out the mud, no wonder why I’m filthy rich
    And I’m running through this money like it don’t mean nothing to me, I might

    [Hook: Ty Dolla $ign]
    Buy the highest bottle like it ain’t nothing
    Bitch I’ll buy 20 bottles for the club like it ain’t nothing
    Drop a hundred thou’ like it ain’t nothing
    Bitch I’ll go and buy a brand new car like it ain’t nothing
    Buy a new crib like it ain’t nothing
    Bitch I’ll go and buy a ton of bad bitches like it ain’t nothing
    Pull a hundred thou’, I mean ain’t nothing
    When you getting money, and smashing , she just say nothing

    [Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
    Pull up in the lowrider two hoes behind us
    Police say that they can smell it but I make sure they don’t find it
    Hit the corner, slide the ash, Young Khalifa bout his cash
    Bout to build another whip and I ain’t even got to brag
    Three women got that bitch leanin’
    Young Khalifa got the women screamin’
    Done deal, done deal when I pull up
    It’s a done deal, lift the trunk, still rolling up
    And I got one in the front, two in the back
    Do what I want, a nigga be like
    King of my city [?] running through traffic
    This ’61 I’m building ’bout to be a classic
    I’m repping Taylor Gang – they asking; paper or plastic?

    [Hook: Ty Dolla $ign]
    Buy the highest bottle like it ain’t nothing
    Bitch I’ll buy 20 bottles for the club like it ain’t nothing
    Drop a hundred thou’ like it ain’t nothing
    Bitch I’ll go and buy a brand new car like it ain’t nothing
    Buy a new crib like it ain’t nothing
    Bitch I’ll go and buy a ton of bad bitches like it ain’t nothing
    Pull a hundred thou’, I mean ain’t nothing
    When you getting money [?]

    [Verse 3: Juicy J]
    (Yeah , Ey Mike-Will, I got [??] , check this out)
    Getting paid like ghost do
    In the street, in the club too
    Designer everything, Ric Flair
    I can buy the rap game, brick fair
    Buy the bar, smoke that caviar, I’m in the finest car
    Push to start, I glow in the dark, I run up the charts
    Redbone, vanilla, freaky broad, she gon’ keep me hard
    Black car, better play it smart, nigga we in charge
    Get paid, young nigga get paid
    And I run the game like a fucking arcade
    If we talking money then I got a raise
    Drink so strong, they think i got it laced

    [Hook: Ty Dolla $ign]
    Buy the highest bottle like it ain’t nothing
    Bitch I’ll buy 20 bottles for the club like it ain’t nothing
    Drop a hundred thou’ like it ain’t nothing
    Bitch I’ll go and buy a brand new car like it ain’t nothing
    Buy a new crib like it ain’t nothing
    Bitch I’ll go and buy a ton of bad bitches like it ain’t nothing
    Pull a hundred thou’, I mean ain’t nothing
    When you getting money [?]


  • Chief Keef – Falling On The Floor (Two Zero One Seven Album)

    [Hook]
    Pop tags, fuck hoes, rock shows
    Dodgin’ hoes and I’m dodgin’ narcos
    I’m in your city and I’ve got my pole
    It’s a 50 bitch, call 5-0
    Pint of the drink, got me movin’ slow
    All this fuckin’ dope, all this fuckin’ smoke
    I think that I’m Kobe how I’m ballin’ on a hoe
    Hit the court, bitches fallin’ on the floor

    [Verse 1]
    Slam dunk, layup, pull up, three point, what up
    Boy, you’re such a woulda coulda shoulda
    Pull up on you in a what the uh uh
    Rollin’ up a egg roll, do you want some?
    Run down on you, time to make you fumble
    Let off ten shots and I made you stumble
    Got that Ric Flair, do you want to rumble?
    I am Tarzan made it outta jungle
    Now I’m feet up countin’ stupid paychecks
    If you got a problem, nigga, say that
    Sharper than an axe, cleaner than AJAX
    Be worried about how many shots this K got

    [Hook]
    Pop tags, fuck hoes, rock shows
    Dodgin’ hoes and I’m dodgin’ narcos
    I’m in your city and I’ve got my pole
    It’s a 50 bitch, call 5-0
    Pint of the drink, got me movin’ slow
    All this fuckin’ dope, all this fuckin’ smoke
    I think that I’m Kobe how I’m ballin’ on a hoe
    Hit the court, bitches fallin’ on the floor

    [Verse 2]
    Hey bitch, what’s your name?
    Hit the party, yeah, the gang’s here
    We finna leave, these niggas lame here
    I’m finna hop up in a reindeer
    I’m finna pick up all the slut hoes
    I don’t really wanna fuck though
    I kill you with my own hands
    Fo’nem who want me to bust though
    Bitch, I’m still with that street shit
    Clip longer than a fuckin’ selfie stick
    Be in your grass, yeah, I’m still on that creep shit
    I’ll hop out in your hood and take a pee bitch
    Let’s get it, catch up

    [Hook]
    Pop tags, fuck hoes, rock shows
    Dodgin’ hoes and I’m dodgin’ narcos
    I’m in your city and I’ve got my pole
    It’s a 50 bitch, call 5-0
    Pint of the drink, got me movin’ slow
    All this fuckin’ dope, all this fuckin’ smoke
    I think that I’m Kobe how I’m ballin’ on a hoe
    Hit the court, bitches fallin’ on the floor


  • Wale – Heel Face Freestyle (Priorities 5 Album) letras

    [Intro]
    Woah, yo
    Fuck them niggas who hate, yea
    Now we soundin’ sweet, go!
    (Sample: “Too sweeeeeeeet!”)

    [Hook]
    Fuck them niggas who hate, duck them bitches who fake
    Everybody is real and everybody two-faced
    Heel, face, heel, face, heel, wait
    Fuck them niggas who hate, duck them bitches who fake
    You could be an earthquake or be a snake
    Heel, face, heel, let’s get it
    Fuck with me

    [Verse]
    Fuck them bitches who fake, all my shit on my plate
    Got me under a fake one like you’re Donald’s toupé
    No real knowledge on foreign policy, obviously bait
    But it’s obvious broken promises shall be your fate
    I’m like the coldest, the dopest poet
    No bullshit, I’m so devoted
    I got at like 40 bitches, but I always go with Chloe
    My baby mama, G, my baby mama, G
    Label took like 40 hours for no MED’s
    And, pick up the Maybach
    I put these niggas in pieces, I duck shit
    And watch these niggas walk in feces on features
    See, the problem is
    They’re Malcolm Jamal Warner, I’m Malcolm X
    Compare, yea, realest nigga everywhere
    Keep my peeps in Christian and they never gon’ loose their Edge
    Fuck it though, we like, fuck it though
    Me and Sean, Big Puffy though
    He been on for a minute now
    But when him around I’ma double up
    Dropped one, hit a number one
    Fuck you niggas, I’m goin’ number one
    Fuck you niggas, I’m Curt Hennig
    Y’all niggas lookin’ like bubble gum
    Real shooter, Prince Balor
    Real shooter, Prince Devitt
    Only Buddha, no Len Bias
    Nobody try us, we’re too excellent
    The execution here too special
    Bless the booth, what I do special
    You’re a main event? I’m a main event
    What I do? Pay-per-view special
    You sleep on Folarin still?
    I’m peepin’ on you artists still
    MMG still the hottest deal
    Like Ric, Tully, and Arn still
    I’m on my Ric Flair
    Hit your head, infared weapon, no sixes
    I’m on my Nature Boy
    Niggas try to fuck up my money
    Still leave with the gold

    [Hook]
    Fuck them niggas who hate, fuck them bitches who fake
    You could be an earthquake or be a snake
    Heel, face, heel, face, heel, yea
    Fuck them niggas who hate, fuck them bitchs who fake
    Everybody is real and everybody two-faced
    Heel, face, heel, face