Song of the Day
Title: DoormanArtist: ClipseAlbum: 'Til the Casket Drops
(Chorus)Hey doorman, tell 'em line up the Cris'I put my money on the roof and crush this bitchYou niggas keep wavin' them wristsI put my money on the roof and crush this bitchYe ain't got money like thisI put my money on the roof and crush this bitchSo scream it if ya ambition fitI put my money on the roof and crush this bitchSing it niggas, lalalalalalalalalala, ye ain't got money like thisLalalalalalalalalala, paper plates on a brand new sixLalalalalalalalalala, I just taught my young boys how to mixLalalalalalalalalala, ye ain't seen paper like this nigga
(Verse 1: Pusha T)Every all star, every Cancun, every holidaySouth Beach in full bloom, thousand dollar suitesWhite sheets, white rooms, I got a bright future neck like a full moonBuy what we want, spend what they wantYoung, rich, hot nigga, everything she wantsTriple beams scales got me under deep spellsKiss my forehead, momma knows I mean wellCocaine bought me everything I ever hadAnd I ain't neva been scared to spend my very last'Cause I can get it back, watch me get it backLast 2 or 10 bricks, shit I'm cookin' that
(Chorus)
(Verse 2: Malice)My life's too real to be a PSAThe million in the ceiling is for a rainy dayI cut it, then whip her like she Annie MaePraise God, I escaped by his amazin' grace, nah neva was I savin' faceSome family ties are impossible to breakThe almighty judge, only he can save meDon't cry for us now, just pray for our babiesMercedes 5, with the open roof, Miami high-rise and the ocean viewThe tell-tale signs that expose the truth, Lil Willy Rat King this one's for you
(Chorus)
(Verse 3: Pusha T)We get it in a flash like paparazzi, cars, crib, everything big bodyBig charm, hangin' from my big chainSwing side to side feelin' like I'm T-PainPull up to the crib, bitch think she seein' thangsMake a hundred stacks blow it like it's pocket change
(Verse 4: Malice)If the good die young, then the greats go to jailI miss my Tony, hope you snitches burn in HellKiss and tell, with sales on us ballersAll because them two doors comin' with big spoilersAll because them bitches is actin' like they jaw-lessAnd we don't count money, we weigh it like fish orders
(Chorus)
(Chorus)Hey doorman, tell 'em line up the Cris'I put my money on the roof and crush this bitchYou niggas keep wavin' them wristsI put my money on the roof and crush this bitchYe ain't got money like thisI put my money on the roof and crush this bitchSo scream it if ya ambition fitI put my money on the roof and crush this bitchSing it niggas, lalalalalalalalalala, ye ain't got money like thisLalalalalalalalalala, paper plates on a brand new sixLalalalalalalalalala, I just taught my young boys how to mixLalalalalalalalalala, ye ain't seen paper like this nigga
(Verse 1: Pusha T)Every all star, every Cancun, every holidaySouth Beach in full bloom, thousand dollar suitesWhite sheets, white rooms, I got a bright future neck like a full moonBuy what we want, spend what they wantYoung, rich, hot nigga, everything she wantsTriple beams scales got me under deep spellsKiss my forehead, momma knows I mean wellCocaine bought me everything I ever hadAnd I ain't neva been scared to spend my very last'Cause I can get it back, watch me get it backLast 2 or 10 bricks, shit I'm cookin' that
(Chorus)
(Verse 2: Malice)My life's too real to be a PSAThe million in the ceiling is for a rainy dayI cut it, then whip her like she Annie MaePraise God, I escaped by his amazin' grace, nah neva was I savin' faceSome family ties are impossible to breakThe almighty judge, only he can save meDon't cry for us now, just pray for our babiesMercedes 5, with the open roof, Miami high-rise and the ocean viewThe tell-tale signs that expose the truth, Lil Willy Rat King this one's for you
(Chorus)
(Verse 3: Pusha T)We get it in a flash like paparazzi, cars, crib, everything big bodyBig charm, hangin' from my big chainSwing side to side feelin' like I'm T-PainPull up to the crib, bitch think she seein' thangsMake a hundred stacks blow it like it's pocket change
(Verse 4: Malice)If the good die young, then the greats go to jailI miss my Tony, hope you snitches burn in HellKiss and tell, with sales on us ballersAll because them two doors comin' with big spoilersAll because them bitches is actin' like they jaw-lessAnd we don't count money, we weigh it like fish orders
(Chorus)
Comments
Post a Comment