lirik lagu mel v - gift of gab
[intro]
brr, chappo
glock, glock, glock could gentrify a n~gga, make his ass move?
ca~call me ludacris, i’ll pull a b~tch and act a fool
i post a pic and make him sick, i’ll make your ho drool
i be wildin’ out from time to time, that’s why i keep my cool
big body range rover, b~tch you in a mini coupe
you say that he like my swag, he f~ck with my attitude
ba~baby let me twist your dreads, i think that i’m feelin’ you
me and you, we stayin’ tuned
smoke one blank, go straight to the moon
i’m in a big~ass car go vroom
i got a glock, yeah, i got a tool
bad ass b~tch, i don’t play by the rules
lean in my cup, i don’t f~ck with no booze
smoke me a blunt and feel like a masseuse
i’m off the woods, my body real loose
yeah, i’m off the woods, i’m feelin’ good
poppin’ sh~t like a bad b~tch should
hop on the beat and i k!ll it like, ugh
get in my mood when i’m off of that blood
you talkin’ sh~t, lil’ b~tch, just shut up
b~tch, i’m the girl, i’m the top one runner
i’m in the booth like nike, the sunner
bad~ass b~tch, i’m a motherf~ckin’ stunner
[verse]
i~i be flexin’ h~lla hard like i was a bodybuilder
i can tell that you a b~tch tryna move like you a k!ller
i be stayin’ out the way i’m countin’ guap i want the skrillex
i could duck off anytime and just pop out like that n~gga
yes, i know that i’m that b~tch, i strike a pose, i take a fl!ck
at my shows, b~tch, i be lit
all these hoes tryna take a pic
this like 5k on my wrist
b~tch, it’s slow, i’m moving swift
bad b~tch, skinny jeans
got me walking with a twist
i don’t f~ck with lame n~ggas
can’t believe we co~exist
i put gravel in my weave
b~tch, i’m dizzy off that sh~t
i be doing hoes wrong
i ain’t sh~t, i must admit
always bringing up the past
and why the f~ck you don’t leave, b~tch?
always with that nagging sh~t
b~tch, i can’t come for trashy, b~tch
i heard n~ggas hating on me
i don’t care, b~tch, suck a d~ck
got my name up in your mouth, b~tch, i’ll slap it out your lips
yeah, i feel just like a virgin, you ain’t f~ckin’ with me, b~tch
you ain’t f~ckin’ with this swag, i told the glock i keep a bag
really came up out of nothin’, i ain’t even had no racks
i’m still tryna get them riches, but i ain’t f~cked up on my ass
i just want them millions and so much money off of grab
i’m obsessed with benjamins, i’m feelin’ like i miss the crabs
only time i miss a b~tch, is if i swing and miss the jab
you can’t knock me off my pivot, i’m forever on they ass
i’m so f~ckin’ top notch, god gave me the gift of gab (what?)
[outro]
chappo
yeah, yeah
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