Maybach LIL UZI VERT

Tap Dance

Why You Hatin’ - Lil Uzi Vert

Good in The Hood (Brandon x ou

Uzi Tell Me What

pinkday Uzi

Dream - Uzi

Royality - Uzi

Mclaren Drive - 999

New Chain

Lyrics:

October night, Paris lights, yeah I’m out to write again,
Ashu hit my line with somethin’ loud, I spark the pen,
It’s that boom from the block, that underground blend,
Every corner’s whisperin’—"boy, this ain’t the end."

Del said “papi,” Lariss lookin’ boujee in Dior,
We spit that heat like dragons, set the city on the floor,
They prayed we wouldn’t make it, but we kicked that door,
Now the fake ones bow down—they can’t ignore.

They don’t know me, legend three times divine,
Saints of the mic, still grindin’ from the grime,
Richer than Hugo, but still broke in time,
I ain’t fancy, just a sinner speakin’ rhymes.

Ain’t nothin’ posh when I fast from the fake,
I bleed over beats, every bar’s a quake,
Like summonin’ Rocco, I bring the tape,
It’s raw, no filter, that real escape.

Mic on fire, I’m Johnny Sins on the set,
Deliver the lines, never miss, no regret,
Take your girl, one night, then forget,
She returns to you with that silhouette.

You buyin’ dreams, but I print the invoice,
Your whole crew’s noise, but I’m the real voice,
I’m laughin’ through the mess, got no choice,
Feelin’ like a ghost with the Rolls Royce.

I’m loopin’ the block near the Eiffel’s gleam,
Thinkin’ of nights that rewired my dream,
Every loss taught me to scheme,
Now I walk through smoke like steam.

They said Paris soft, but I found grit,
Street poets post where the models sit,
Turn pain into power, bit by bit,
And write confessions where love don’t fit.

From the Seine to the Metro line,
Every step feel like divine design,
Every rhyme another sign,
That I was built for this incline.

Bottle of red, mind full of black,
Past creepin’ up, tryna pull me back,
But I dance with ghosts, stay on track,
Turnin’ nightmares into plaques.

City of love but the nights are cold,
Gold hearts rust when the stories told,
Everyone act rich, but they sold,
Souls for a post, truth for gold.

I’ve seen dreams drown in the champagne,
Smiles fake, but the hunger’s the same,
They all pray for a viral name,
But I pray just to stay sane.

Rooftop smoke, watchin’ the lights,
Talkin’ ‘bout pain, pretendin’ it’s hype,
They want fame, I want life,
Two worlds in the same night.

Street saints, camera sinners,
Play both sides, pick no winners,
Truth gets lost with the dinners,
Money talk, the rest get thinner.

Every DM another lie,
Every post another cry,
They flexin’ pain for alibis,
While real hurt kids just stay quiet and die.

I’ve been broke, I’ve been numb,
Still write verses like I’m the one,
While they chase clout for fun,
I chase peace—don’t need a gun.

Paris rain wash sins away,
Still feel dirty at the break of day,
All these lights just hide decay,
But damn, it’s beautiful that way.

Still run laps ‘round the Tour, no fear,
My reflection’s the only thing sincere,
Whispers in the smoke, I hear,
The cost of dreams ain’t clear.

You can’t buy this type of grind,
Came from hunger and a restless mind,
Now I eat what I design,
Turnin’ pain into a shrine.

So I write under Paris skies,
Truth in bars, no disguise,
World full of noise and lies,
But I still rise, I still rise.

Boujee in Paris

Why You Hatin’ - Lil Uzi Vert

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