Muhf*ckn Tired lyrics

by

Quavo


[Intro]
Yeah, young rich n*ggas
Back to back, two times
Hahaha
30, you a fool for this one

[Verse 1: Quavo]
Hit a n*gga with the throwaway
b*tch I came from another place
Unfortunately we couldn't beat the case
f*ck it we outta jail anyway
You want the Migo gang? You got to pay
Kickin' in doors for the 10k, 14k, anything
Young n*gga cashin' out for the change
I already dreamed that I had the fame
Red and white coupe like a candy cane
Pop a perc, it feel like Bruce Wayne
Chop a brick like I'm Tsung Shang
b*tch I'm dabbin' in my own lane
Chokeslam a n*gga, Quavo Kane
I hate a n*gga tryna cook plain
Cause my money taller than a great dane
We gave the world dab fever check
My receipt is thousand dollar sneakers
Stop and get a play from cheetah
Quavo Derek Jeter, keep a street sweeper
I'm a salt water alligator eater
I play with water, you can check the meter
Cookie bag, that's my choice of reefer
Migo gang, aka grim reapers
[Chorus: Quavo]
Try the squad, n*gga shots fired
Thugger daughter motherf*ckin' tired (my niece)
Baby bottles, ain't no babies cryin' (drank)
Hit 'em if he cross the gun line
You holdin' yours? I'ma bust mine
He lookin' wrong, call it sus time
Free my n*ggas, give 'em phone time
Skin a n*gga like a pork rind
We get to the money in short time
Watch us make it back 10 times
My wrist spinnin', I'm so f*ckin' tired
That my favorite line, I'm motherf*ckin' tired
Chop a brick like a samurai
We the n*ggas make the birds fly
Then I f*cked the b*tch five times
Then I took her out cause I'm f*ckin' tired

[Verse 2: Takeoff]
Takeoff!!
Just f*cked a model b*tch five times
I just ate a burger from Five Guys
I'm smokin' on cookies from High Times
You smokin' but don’t roll them outside
Migo gang, we have them mob ties
Put a f*ck n*gga on Fox 5
Pretty little b*tch with her mouth wide
She see me pull up in that, frog eyes
Yeah b*tch, it’s 30 on the beat (30 Roc)
Keep a 30 by my side
My b*tches on fleek, Louboutin they feet
Ain't no question my n*ggas gon' ride
Ain't talkin' bout Drexler
When they come to that dope, n*gga, I bet it's gon' glide
Ain't talkin' bout Dexter
Cook in the laboratory, Fendi frames on my eyes
Remember my pockets win the lottery
So every check gotta pay my tithes
n*gga tellin' lies just to cut time
My n*gga you see 'em televised
No matter how hard I try
When I put music out I'm still gon' get criticized
n*gga f*ckin' round with squad
Think they wanna get decapitized
[Chorus: Quavo]
Try the squad, n*gga shots fired
Thugger daughter motherf*ckin' tired (my niece)
Baby bottles, ain't no babies cryin' (drank)
Hit 'em if he cross the gun line
You holdin' yours? I'ma bust mine
He lookin' wrong, call it sus time
Free my n*ggas, give 'em phone time
Skin a n*gga like a pork rind
We get to the money in short time
Watch us make it back 10 times
My wrist spinnin', I'm so f*ckin' tired
That my favorite line I'm motherf*ckin' tired
Chop a brick like a samurai
We the n*ggas make the birds fly
Then I f*cked the b*tch five times
Then I took her out cause I'm f*ckin' tired

[Verse 3: Offset]
I'm tired.... I'm tired
These n*ggas flexin'
They talk about diamonds, they do not got VS inside 'em
I hit a lick, we divided it
Porsche with the gator inside of it
I'm on three Percs and I'm out of it
She gonna suck me up privately
I was young when the trap game adopted me
Grabbed the stick and shot his abdomen
Young n*gga I am an arson
I got the pump in the cut with the carbon
My wrist cost a motherf*ckin' 'Rari
I am a boss, I pull strings like a guitarist
You out of season, you need Lawries
Pull up in Beamers but trap out a Taurus
Look at the brick on my wrist look like Mick
When I got famous I darkened my tint
She took a mile when I gave her an inch
Won't sell my soul for some cash or a Bent
Hop in the plane and we land in Berlin
Christian Dior my b*tch and her friend
(?) when I was in the pen
Prayin' to God that I don't go again
[Chorus: Quavo]
Try the squad, n*gga shots fired
Thugger daughter motherf*ckin' tired (my niece)
Baby bottles, ain't no babies cryin' (drank)
Hit 'em if he cross the gun line
You holdin' yours? I'ma bust mine
He lookin' wrong, call it sus time
Free my n*ggas, give 'em phone time
Skin a n*gga like a pork rind
We get to the money in short time
Watch us make it back 10 times
My wrist spinnin', I'm so f*ckin' tired
That my favorite line I'm motherf*ckin' tired
Chop a brick like a samurai
We the n*ggas make the birds fly
Then I f*cked the b*tch five times
Then I took her out cause I'm f*ckin' tired
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