lirik lagu lil tame – d.o.l.l.a.r.s.
[intro]
yo, yo, it’s hype
this whole song gonna be a one~take, right? yeah
lil tame
[chorus]
i was born with a fist full of d to the o to the l~l~a~r~s
but they never in my pockets
never, ever better, always feeling at my best
never showed out a gray hair or no sign of stress
[verse 1]
hop on the tame express ’cause this train
can’t paint a picture of his brain, nonetheless
and how bizarre is that?
a young brother share his feelings, and he’s called a brat
that ain’t even gaslighting, at this point it’s napalm
leave the smartеst people in the joint to dеbate on this
scratching your head, shake your fists
’cause you’ll never understand, that’s the way things is
i was born with a roof over my h to the e to the a~d
here’s what i mean, i was tryna stay clean
i don’t claim to be nothing that i’m not, i make it plain to see
twenty~four~seven, i’m a businessman, this legitimate, man
ain’t a k!ller or a thief, but i’m in this land
it’s the usa, taggin’ like instagram almost every day
like, hey, it’s my motto
and lt, that’s my monogram
i hate all n~z~s, germany to colorado
break a leg like this the lotto
you might live to see tomorrow
or not, if you anti~semitic, your time is borrowed if you’re caught
[chorus]
d to the o to the l~l~a~r~s
they never in my pockets
never, ever better, always feeling at my best
never showed out a gray hair or no sign of stress
c~a to the s to the h
better not let the rack out his cage
money on my mind saying, “let’s go get paid”
so i step into the studio to set up the stage
d to the o to the l~l~a~r~s
they never in my pockets
never, ever better, always feeling at my best
never showed out a gray hair or no sign of stress
c~a to the s to the h
better not let the rack out his cage
money on my mind saying, “let’s go get paid”
so i step into the studio to set up the stage
[verse 2]
double them prints, if [?]
robbin’ my print in a murderous [?]
hittin’ the spot in the mark on the table
spittin’ too hot and [?] glaciers
seriously, i got a [?]
scarin’ people with a gun like a fazer (sheesh)
rockin’ them bullets [?]
look at me in the eyes
woah, [?] at mama, she adores me
shoutout my homie, dorsey
i’ve been really corny
but still really taking your seat, i’m a bully
mashed like guacamole, tell me nothing’s holy
[chorus]
only d to the o to the l~l~a~r~s
and they never in my pockets
never, ever better, always feeling at my best
never showed out a gray hair or no sign of stress
c~a to the s to the h
better not let the rack out his cage
money on my mind saying, “let’s go get paid”
so i step into the studio to set up the stage
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