Fuck n party (yk + porkb3lly)

I don’t want you bitch + fuck a heartbreak (444jet)

lyrics 

balenci my jacket
i been livin fast life 
i aint never had shit
fell in love with fashion 
i hang with them addicts
i got me a bad bich
i think its a habit
i might just take your bich
i aint even bragging

bich im spitting hot fye
some shit like a dragon 
i been on my prince shit
i think im aladdin 
he think he gon intercept 
this shit aint madden
she think im the internet
cause i started laggin

she gon fw me bc im toxic, im toxic 
pull up wit my gang and they like aw shit, like aw shit
perc straight to my brain im on oxy, on oxy
she dont know my name
she lost me, she lost me yea

pour me up
now im stuck
but i took a dub
wtf
i cant show no love 
these niggas they suck

let my money hang
wrist on jonny dang
she dont feel my pain
you gon feel my pain
gas in the tank
all black range
shoutout to my gang
i just wanna get paid
you know that im cookin up
im goin insane 
i need her to fuck me up
tryna see if i change
i cant talk to nobody
all yall just be lame 

i just need closure
im tryna get over
i still shop at dover
purp up in my soda

Balenciaga

Trackhawk jeep (444jet)

Baby you know I need you
And girl you know you need me
Too busy rolling on dope 
Up in that SRT 
And girl we goin top speed 
Baby come kick it with me 
Gas got me high like a tree 
Hold on lil baby you know I’m too flee
These Japanese denim, Jun Takahashi

Lil baby you know that I need you
Like right now I’m comin to see you
Pull up in a turbo engine V2
You know these bitches on me ain’t shit boo 
Baby this shit is so simple
Love yo smile cuz i see yo dimples 
I ain’t got no friends, i ain’t got no damn bros
And I swear to god I can’t fuck with these damn hoes 

These bitches playin me like a Nintendo
And they readin me just like a Kindle 
Pull up to yo spot I shoot out the window 
No I don’t got no opponents, no kinfolk 
If you pull up man you want the damn smoke 
762 it go thru yo mans bro 
Yea my hands full cuz I’m countin up bands bro

Runnin up packs in my Number (N)ine Jeans 
Break her back yea I’m breakin her spleen
All of my pieces they come over seas 
That girl she know she can’t fuck with me 
Bruh i cannot cuff, that hoe ugly 
I’m makin these racks man, comfortably 
Man fuck yo ex that boy is history
Rolling on dope yea we smokin up chimney

Need You! (prod. Orcery)

akuma - Got What U Need ft. vortex + rish [shordi] (vortex ~ radio)

No Hook p sebxtc

Booted Up ft. gxrdxinnn (prod. rxnqn)

Up (sl4yyer)

fre3dom_anthem

lyrics:
Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh
Raf Simons on my sweater
Mix it with Balenci leather
Make it rain in the strip club, I can change the weather
You can't blame me for getting paid by almost any measure
Walking out Dover Street bitch I'm fly just like a feather
You was talking shit on dead homies glock put your brain in blender
Boy stop talking shit, you don't know me, I'll punch you like Mayweather
Drop the lo to boy to set him up, this aint no get together

I got tires on my feet they the defenders
I smoke weed every day no I aint on a bender
This aint no ice cream shop boy I aint fuckin friendly
I up pole on em till a pussy boy surrender
Yeah yeah
I got gang ties with my clique
Looking homeless but I'm rocking the Rick
I'm really with it watch who you call a bitch
Got a trigger finger and that shit got a itch
I up the stick make a pussyboy sprint
Look at your wallet that shit filled with lint
Can't let em see me got a 5% tint
I won't get caught lacking imma stand on 10
They see that I'm white, and they want me to rap like I'm Eminem
Fuck that shit i got bands
You suck you don't got no fans
I don't rock no clothes unless they made by expensive brands
I won't do your show unless you pay me in fucking advance

Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh
Raf Simons on my sweater
Mix it with Balenci leather
Make it rain in the strip club, I can change the weather
You can't blame me for getting paid by almost any measure
Walking out Dover Street bitch I'm fly just like a feather
You was talking shit on dead homies glock put your brain in blender
Boy stop talking shit, you don't know me, I'll punch you like Mayweather
Drop the lo to boy to set him up, this aint no get together

weatherman (prod. georgi) (Bonus Track)

Tired of ts man
sorry I keep leaving life hard

Trackhawk jeep (444jet)

yvng gink$

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