2 Chainz

"Uh Huh"

[Intro: Young Scooter]
(ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob)

[Chorus: Trouble]
Quarter mil' on ice, we call that bling-bling, uh-huh
Runnin' up these racks on all you green beans, uh-huh
Foreigns in the brick, look like a dream team, uh-huh
Brick still on your list, I told you one thing, uh-huh
Spoil my b*tch, let's get rich, type of sh*t I'm on my own
Teach my clique, know to hit, type of sh*t I'm on
Take some trips, let's get lit, type of sh*t I'm on
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh

[Verse 1: Trouble]
Yeah, b*tch head go dumb, wrist been feelin' numb
Yeah, still totin' that gun like he on the run
Run, run, run, Forrest, run, run, Forrest, run
Yeah, might chase your boyfriend 'bout you, b*tch, I'm done
Yeah, I drop that di*k, she said, "You hell with it"
I bought her Chanel shoes to match Chanel with it (Chanel, Chanel)
She asked for the snow, and I promised to never go tell n*ggas (Never go tell)
I f*cked with this ho and she sent her lil' buddy to sell with us
Big sh*t poppin'
Big di*k energy
b*tch, what's popin'?
This b*tch c*cky
Wrist'll get Follies
Lit like Scottie
Who else gettin' the pills in college? Hmm? (Skoob)

[Chorus: Trouble & 2 Chainz]
Quarter mil' on ice, we call that bling-bling, uh-huh
Runnin' up these racks on all you green beans, uh-huh
Foreigns in the brick, look like a dream team, uh-huh
Brick still on your list, I told you one thing, uh-huh
Spoil my b*tch, let's get rich, type of sh*t I'm on my own
Teach my clique, know to hit, type of sh*t I'm on
Take some trips, let's get lit, type of sh*t I'm on
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh (Yeah, Tony)

[Verse 2: 2 Chainz]
Cuban link on top of a Cuban link
'Nother Cuban link, pus*y pink, bon appétit (Uh)
Come with me, you better not stink, I'll find you a sink (Uh, uh)
You think you can f*ck with this flow, lil' n*gga, then load up a beat
Code of the streets, I live that sh*t, you feel that sh*t (You feel it)
They bring me whips, I don't go to no dealership (Nah)
When I met the plug, tell me, where the f*ck was you? (Was you?)
Partner had that dogfood, yabba-dabba-doo (Yabba-dabba-doo)
Big boy rider (Yeah), drip designer (Drip)
Draw down on him (Baow), I'll outline him (Yeah)
Southside with me (South), the whole Al-Qaeda (Qaeda)
Sell a n*gga dummy (Tell him), Duct Tape flour 'em

[Chorus: Trouble]
Quarter mil' on ice, we call that bling-bling, uh-huh
Runnin' up these racks on all you green beans, uh-huh
Foreigns in the brick, look like a dream team, uh-huh
Brick still on your list, I told you one thing, uh-huh
Spoil my b*tch, let's get rich, type of sh*t I'm on my own
Teach my clique, know to hit, type of sh*t I'm on
Take some trips, let's get lit, type of sh*t I'm on
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2018 Bee Lyrics.Net