Moroccan Waters lyrics

by

Cormega


[Intro]
Rah, rah, rah, rah, brrt
I want my f*cking respect, man
Told y'all n*ggas
Know what the f*ck it is n*gga
Griselda, n*gga
Griselda
Machine b*tch

[Verse 1: Conway]
Look, f*ck a shooter, I keep a gun up in my reach (I got my own sh*t)
f*ck the talk, I drum a 100 when it's beef (brrrt)
Sneak diss me at your shows like a hundred n*ggas deep (what's poppin' n*gga?)
Just to show n*ggas they don't want it with the G
XFR, vest kevlar, get your chest wet, nah
n*gga I'm aimin' above it with this heat (rah, rah, rah)
My name buzzin' so my budget just increased (ah)
'Cause over Daringer production I'm a beast (woo)
The n*ggas in the hood lovin' what I speak
Go tell 'em the real is back baby, them other n*ggas weak (them n*ggas frauds)
Lately I been countin' money in my sleep (count it up!)
Versace boxers, b*tch, a hunnid for my briefs
You n*ggas want a deal so bad, you sign for any money
I'm Peyton Manning boy, I'm still spending Indy money
I don't need a n*gga to lend me money
I had to come up like the DVD, now I can blow Fendi money
Goyard duffle full of blue bills
40 got two bodies on it but it was new still (woo)
Tell 'em n*ggas, I'm the truth still (I'm that n*gga)
Heat on my lap like my soup spilled
Like my weed sour, I like my Veuve chilled (I drink it)
800 for the belt, tuck the blue steel (who want it?)
Wig shot, get your roof peeled
That's your dude tell him chill
He 'bout to get him and you killed (pus*y)
Them old n*ggas just talkin' 'cause they got lips (you soft n*gga)
Nobody in the hood respect you, you ain't pop sh*t (the f*ck is you n*gga)
You just another nobody thinkin' he relevant
Talking and yelling sh*t, go f*ck around and get a shell in his face
And get his sh*t pushed
You just a rapper boy, you just spit hooks
You don't know how a brick look, word up
(Get your sh*t rocked with this fifth, pus*y n*gga)
[Verse 2: Meyhem Lauren]
Dirty looks'll get your face sterilized by a clean slap
Next step, pull the mean MAC, n*gga I mean that
Supreme rap, Dillinger speaks, killers in reach
Rock my chain on a sand, now I'm chillin the beach
Dressed up in that Gavelle, but, fool professionally laugh
But if I orchestrate the attack you gettin splashed, uhh
Chrome rockets, foamposites, grown pockets
n*ggas spray, rockin Cartier, different optics
Silk shirt like I'm in the tropics
Whips spotless, grip profits, hold on, my clique got this, uhh
200 thousand on the re-up
Shootin dice, you n*ggas wouldn't put a G up
Me and my n*ggas pitch, b*tch, you and your n*ggas snitch
Heard up top, you was a top heavy bottom b*tch, uhh
And y'all ain't ready for the turbulence
Poppin sh*t then you got approached and we ain't heard you since
sh*t, I'm just another Don, b*tches love the rugged charm
Eat so much octopus I'm 'bout to grow another arm
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 © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net