笨小笨777 (feat. Veeze) (Explicit)歌词由Tay B&Veeze演唱，出自专辑《4eva In My Bag (Deluxe) [Explicit]》，下面是《777 (feat. Veeze) (Explicit)》完整版歌词！
777 (feat. Veeze) (Explicit)歌词完整版
Greenlight
I forgot what I was doing, I start listening to that ***** again, Yeah
Yeah, all facts lil n—
You know what the **** going on
Real rich n—s man, you know?
Yeah, you know dat, yeah
Up a roll on a rat *****, better shut her up
She a cheap *****, tryna **** on me, ain’t nuttin’ up
Inna truck, staring at the stars while the sun come up
You can never be my right hand, that’s my double cup
I’m sippin’ drank, diamonds clear like Grey Goose
I did like the *****, then she said she ****** Tay, too (man)
Tell that *****, pull up with the BJ like Tay do
Real millionaires, it ain’t too much we can’t do
I know n— use the Greyhound, make the grey move
Catch a opp, tighten his *** up like the braces loose
Rich ***** with me, she got pointers in her chain, too
This a mob meeting, only bosses at the table
Yeah, lately I’ve been bringing racks out just to **** em’ up
I’m only puttin’ chains on my neck that’s a hundred plus
******* calling me they best friend for a cover up
Took a ***** shopping, **** the tag I just rung it up
Every ***** wanna go down since I’m going up
Last night I ****** seven ****, so I throw it up
Spent 300 on a plain jane, I guess I’m growing up
Got a pretty ***** rolling **** while I’m pouring up
I just counted up two million cash, I don’t mean to brag
Now everybody wanna ask, they used to put me last
I can’t hit the jeweler with no money, put it on my tab
On her period, she askin’ me to **** her in her ***
She keep askin’ for my sign, baby I’m a sag
Half man half horse, but I drive a Lam’
Every car got F’s, I’m never out of gas
You wanna be in Lamborghini Boyz, you gotta holla at WHAM
Hit a n— block and spin spin I’m bout to holla at Dan
Hatin’ n— playing all my songs, how you not a fan
When I was younger all my n—s was on telegram
I was sittin’ in the trap, tryna sell a gram
Now the load way too big to drive, we gotta mail em in
Yeah we got the best ticket around, go and tell a friend
Crazy that we rich while we grown, we was rich kids
This ain’t Red Lobster, but I only came for the bread
The **** ran that ****, but the fetty turned it to a ten
My hat and my shirt and my belt, man that’s three grand
Security ain’t check in my bag, so I snuck it in
All facts, reach for a chain been and shot a man
Today I’m going Christian to the floor, I’m a godly man
My youngins getting better at slidin’, they a hockey practice
Veeze you the worst, you a devil, Prada pants
****, she start telling me her problems, got up outta there
Unc’ told me if I need a million, I could borrow it
I got all this money, different colors like Sour Patch
These **** just like hitmans, they got body counts
Yeah I rap, but down in Columbus I got oxycontin
Lame n—, you would sell your soul for me to shout you out
My cup filled with all mud it’s a mom (?)
Lame *** lil n—, what the **** going on
