Wale - FIRST CLASS Lyrics Ft Big Sean & B.o.B.

Wale - First Class Lyrics Ft Big Sean & B.o.B.

Another dope collaboration has been released by rapper Wale, together with Big Sean and B.o.B. The track is titled "First Class" and it will appear on DJ Holiday's "We Working" album. Wale talks about how he really is a hard worker when it comes to his music. Big Sean on the other hand talks about his Good Life and on his way to become a First Class. And finally B.o.B. explains what are his goals and greatest successes in life. Their dope raps plus a classic beat makes this killer song.

These First Class Lyrics will be updated without any notifications. First Class video recorded by Wale is located above.

chorus

fell asleep in first class
hoes callin’ my phone but f-ck it
i get to ‘em when i land
and i aint tryna land cause time is money
so while you worry bout the hoes, i kill shows
and bag more clothes
it’s polo: check
these jordan 4′s: check
these women know, what i’m on
(what i’m on)

wale

look, doing life from the 36th floor
tryna renovate the game, i aint happy with the score
hol’ up
insubordinate for good reason
as i coordinate the perfect feature
uhh, a working genius, a work of art
thats how i see it
cause i can bring you to your dreams like salvia
holiday season, obama’s good neighbour
i aint talkin to neither but got comma’s in my statement
my bitches f-ck me good
in the morning make me bacon
and even when i make ‘em, mad still make em naked
and i don’t take no dames out
i just spit my game out
she don’t give her nigga head cause i f-ck all her brains out
hey, thats cold blooded
hey, these hoes love it
roll up was $4, doja was four hundred
dolce gabbana stuntin’
a young nigga love it
why ya’ll be gettin’ mad
we only gettin’ money

chorus

fell asleep in first class
hoes callin’ my phone but f-ck it
i get to ‘em when i land
and i aint tryna land cause time is money
so while you worry bout the hoes, i kill shows
http://latestvideolyrics.blogspot.com/2011/07/wale-first-class-lyrics-ft-big-sean-bob.html
and bag more clothes
it’s polo: check
these jordan 4′s: check
these women know, what i’m on
(what i’m on)

big sean

okay today i was the freshest in my area
freshest in the neighbourhood
freshest in america
f-ckin bitches chasing paper
i feel like i’m alterior
boi, i’m historical
i cause the hysteria
ok, whats a better accessory?
my all gold rolly or the bitch thats standing next to me
or the one in front of me
or the chick leaving
lightin’ reef up like it’s the holiday season
woah there, woah there, these niggas can’t f-ck with me
they too little
i’m animal you can’t talk to me
unless you are dr dolittle
welcome, we-welcome to the good life
heard you had a bad day, well lets make it a good night
but they say we aint big
turn us to a suge knight
lets swim in alcohol and hop up on that red-eye kush flight
and when i’m old, i’ll probably die getting some head
i’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs
b-i, boi, boi…

chorus

fell asleep in first class
hoes callin’ my phone but f-ck it
i get to ‘em when i land
and i aint tryna land cause time is money
so while you worry bout the hoes, i kill shows
and bag more clothes
it’s polo: check
these jordan 4′s: check
these women know, what i’m on
(what i’m on)

b.o.b

from my shell toes to my brim brim
i’m an old soul with my pimp limp
i roll up and i sip sip
whole team full of og’s packing fo-fo’s on the hip hip
but we stay cool, we don’t miss miss
through the grapevine yeah they diss diss
when they feel safe on some bitch shit
i’m first class on my trip trip
with two chicks, sadistic
we touch down in moscow and take flicks like click click
she so hysterical, she say my life aint regular cause
i be doing rich shit, you know, baller shit, etc

chorus

fell asleep in first class
hoes callin’ my phone but f-ck it
i get to ‘em when i land
and i aint tryna land cause time is money
so while you worry bout the hoes, i kill shows
and bag more clothes
it’s polo: check
these jordan 4′s: check
these women know, what i’m on
(what i’m on)

As you notice, we don't have the full precise Wale Ft Big Sean & B.o.B. - First Class Lyrics. But if you happen to have some parts or maybe the full lyrics, please put it on the comment below or submit the lyrics directly. You can also suggest songs that are not in this blog yet.

Song Information:

Title: First Class

Artist: Wale

Length: 3:34

Type: Full

Album: We Working

Genre: Rap

Producer: N/A

Featured Artists: Big Sean, B.o.B.

Joell Ortiz - Am I A Psycho Lyrics Ft B.o.B. & Pharoahe Monch

Joell Ortiz - Am I A Psycho Lyrics Ft B.o.B. & Pharoahe Monch

Slaughterhouse member Joell Ortiz makes a remix of Tech9ne's "Am I A Psycho". This new remix features rappers B.o.B. and Pharoahe Monch.

These Am I A Psycho Lyrics will be updated without any notifications. Am I A Psycho video recorded by Joell Ortiz is located above.

I see you looking at me
Looking at me, so I ask

Hook
Am I a psycho? Am I a psycho?
Yeah I’m a psycho, I guess I’m a psycho

Joell Ortiz:

is a cricket making noise outside of my window cell,
i can’t concentrate at my’
while reading a book and cooking, some say this is add,
i count every single step i take i like add.
i just removed the breaks of my brand new atv,
and switch the wheels with a bmx that i received in ’83.
i’m a’ a political naked and say hey!
i totally forgot what i would say,
but it would be mean and they would just scream
and throw the’ and tried to chase me’
i used to love the goose, but’
it was actually a tragedy, man’. is crazy!
when everybody’s happy, that makes me mad and i get angry,
everybody said that i’m’ i’m not a baby
i just like to have my way and play and say these really good rhymes,
and make you tumble up’

Hook
Am I a psycho? Am I a psycho?
Yeah I’m a psycho, I guess I’m a psycho

B.o.B.:

hey, why are you looking at me, hm?
i ain’t looking at you, hm?
but i gotta be looking at you, to see that you’re looking at me
that’s true!
forget what i just said, may name is ted, you wanna be cool?
maybe go shoot some pool,
maybe go swim in a pool,
maybe will hit the gym, you’ll see how much weight i can pull.
http://latestvideolyrics.blogspot.com/2011/07/joell-ortiz-am-i-psycho-lyrics-ft-bob.html
i make good’, but i ain’t so cool and’
but maybe we won’t be friends, i’ll make your eyeball look azul.
with a left, a right, i’m kicking the fight, let’s fight and that it’s cool!
last night i watched the ‘ that movie it was clear,
nobody walked across the screen, and i’m the only one the cheer!
scratching my nuts here, ‘beer, hugging my bear,
dough, a deer, a female deer, rain upon him, run son!
protect your mom and sister, here they come!
bring it on you’ how dare you test the’
i’ll drag your fury ass across the’

Hook
Am I a psycho? Am I a psycho?
Yeah I’m a psycho, I guess I’m a psycho

As you notice, we don't have the full precise Joell Ortiz Ft B.o.B. & Pharoahe Monch - Am I A Psycho Lyrics. But if you happen to have some parts or maybe the full lyrics, please put it on the comment below or submit the lyrics directly. You can also suggest songs that are not in this blog yet.

Song Information:

Title: Am I A Psycho

Artist: Joell Ortiz

Length: 4:33

Type: Remix

Album: N/A

Genre: Rap

Producer: N/A

Featured Artists: Tech N9ne, B.o.B., Pharoahe Monch

T.I. - We Don't Get Down Like Y'all Lyrics Ft B.o.B.

T.I. - We Don't Get Down Like Y'all Lyrics Ft B.o.B.

He may be behind bars but T.I. won't be stopped from releasing his music. In this new release, he collaborates with co-Grand Hustle B.o.B. aka Bobby Ray for this new track titled "We Don't Get Down Like Y'all". T.I's still positive above all these problems and said he's releasing this for his fans that continues to support him.

These We Don't Get Down Like Y'all Lyrics will be updated without any notifications. We Don't Get Down Like Y'all video recorded by  is located above.

b.o.b:

we dont get down like yall
na na na na na
we dont get down like yall
sucka nigga
we dont get down like yall

verse 1:

hey, its been a lot of back and forth over this and that
so i dont pick the bobble no more i just get a fact
listen pimpin', let me tell you what the business is
ya'll are [?] imma tell you what the difference is
see we old school, you just old news
we used to move blow and you just blow dude
see we the talk of the town me and my whole crew
you run around town gossip like whole dude
see your name drop when nobody knows you
we get them lames out of shakin like we supposed to
my crew we cock the bentley brooklyn and the road too
you gift her roses im the one she brings the rose to
so you say your shinin well i guess im shinin more
so high up im soaring thirty and im like a dinasoar
cannivor, meet here g's they respect
me to you like comparing a vet to a cadet nigga
haa!!

chorus:

we dont get down like yall
i ball, i do
you talk, im real
you flaw, pussy nigga
we dont get down like yall
sucka nigga
we dont get down like yall

verse 2:

dont call it the coming back
again ride been from the fed pin [?]
pull up on them suckers pop the trunk and tell them get in
thought i lost a step but guess again
back to ballin, getting bread, bringing checks in
yeah, like we did on my last case
i show you how to make a blessin out of bad breaks
let me set these niggas ass straight
holding up there clothes bags up losing up fag bait
them hot pants bad for your prize state
http://latestvideolyrics.blogspot.com/2011/06/ti-we-dont-get-down-like-yall-lyrics-ft.html
lime green, hot pink, a drag queen hot date
in stores asking for the same size the bitches buy
they say its here, but where im from we call it sissy fairy

chorus:

we dont get down like yall
i ball, i do
you talk, im real
you flaw, pussy nigga
we dont get down like yall
sucka nigga
we dont get down like yall

verse 3:

ay, before us there was none
after us no more there will ever be
this the greatest show on earth you will ever see
still do it for my niggas in the street getting to it
blowing money like my nigga big meech used to do it
say we blowing money fast, big old money bag
three four hundred carrots just to make them suckas mad
back in the side of the winner of every battle
and the best since i was rapping in a rattle word travel
as you comment on the rumors of what have you bewared dude
prayer cant prepare you how dare you
disrespect my presence peasents i will tear you
a new one, i poop on your egos and move on
rolls royce back seat no grey coupon
a true don, three piece polished suit on
pee on, see it aint no neon in my new one
tear the truth on every song i spew on (blaww!!)

chorus:

we dont get down like yall
i ball, i do
you talk, im real
you flaw, pussy nigga
we dont get down like yall
sucka nigga
we dont get down like yall

As you notice, we don't have the full precise T.I. Ft B.o.B. - We Don't Get Down Like Y'all Lyrics. But if you happen to have some parts or maybe the full lyrics, please put it on the comment below or submit the lyrics directly. You can also suggest songs that are not in this blog yet.

Song Information:

Title: We Don't Get Down Like Y'all

Artist: T.I.

Length: 3:46

Type: Full

Album: N/A

Genre: Rap Hip-Hop

Producer: N/A

Featured Artists: B.o.B.

Tech N9ne - Am I A Psycho Lyrics Ft B.o.B. & Hopsin

Tech N9ne - Am I A Psycho Lyrics Ft B.o.B. & Hopsin

Brand new track was released, Tech N9ne on this song which is an Odd Future Diss "Am I A Psycho" with rappers Bobby Ray aka B.o.B. and Hopsin that goes hard in this!

These Am I A Psycho Lyrics will be updated without any notifications. Am I A Psycho video recorded by Tech N9ne is located above.

[Intro]
I see you looking at me
Looking at me, so I ask

[Hook]
Am I a psycho? Am I a psycho?
Yeah I’m a psycho, I guess I’m a psycho

[Verse 1: Tech]
You’re crazy, I like you, but you’re crazy, my tours paid me
So I used that dough to allure ladies to manure bathe me
Never that - my minds for sure shady
Pure Hades, Rev X Stady couldn’t endure to save me
Why do I let this stripper burn me on the arm with a cigarette
In the same spot 10 times in a row when i feel that burn i palm the clitoris
I’ma get her wet, sorry to get carried away, I feel stupid cause I ain’t get her yet
Maybe she never looked at a fine nigga sweat on her breasts, I get vexed so 9 bit her neck
Open! I try to contain it but that damn dame thang’s soakin’
Alter ego say why you let them gang bang folk in
Strange Lane hopin’ I can maintain coping
But ain’t nobody talkin when the insane mane spoken
I like fire on my skin, blood on my draws
From up on her walls, I’m suffering, I’m stuck in her claws
Stuffed in her jaws, huffin’ and puffin’ hollerin' i'm a dog, afterwards i like really hot scalding water on my balls

[Hook]
Am I a psycho? Am I a psycho?
http://latestvideolyrics.blogspot.com/2011/06/tech-n9ne-am-i-psycho-lyrics-ft-bob.html
Yeah I’m a psycho, I guess I’m a psycho

[Verse 2: Hopsin]
Mom? Dad? I’m no longer the boy you’ve used to seen
I’ve changed a lot, plus I’ve grown to hate every human being
My mood swings have now turned my dreams into gruesome scenes
Now I’m doing things I don’t normally do
When illusion seem to be the only pleasures I can gain
If I was sane I’d put down the mic and say fuck it I’ll never rise to fame
But with the wicked records I contain, I could probably jeopardize your name
No lovey-dovey let’s ignite the flame if you’re lucky you survive the pain
Sorry that ain’t very merry to say, why is this game so scary to play?
Well let me think, cause every day my balls are getting too hairy to shave
Pause a minute, I’m stressin’ the game if I go to hell then heaven's to blame
I don’t mean to come off crazy but you mothafuckas seem to think that I’m hella deranged
When I was seven years old, I fell on my head and I severed my brain
If you think I’m lying then ask my mama nigga she’ll go tell you the same
Should I be ashamed? No, I’m living my life so ghetto fabulous
Before you get bent outta shape my nigga let me ask you this

[Hook]
Am I a psycho? Am I a psycho?
Yeah I’m a psycho, I guess I’m a psycho

[Verse 3: B.o.B]
I stab you with this mic and rap this verse I’m rappin’ to you
Matter fact I’m rapping through you, never say my motherfucking name
Unless you absolutely have to I am not no fucking jacket
With no matching shoes and you are not no fashion guru
Can’t even see you niggas, y’all wish I was rappin’ to you
Matter of fact act like I’m rappin’ to you if that gives you passion
To use this an excuse then just jump up out of conclusion
That I’m attackin you dudes is just like old fashion voodoo
Y’all ain’t even the shit, y’all ain’t even the doodoo
I got more flavor on the tissue paper under my Toobos
So I’m slapping you fools with wooden paddles you stupid
Baby sitting little bastards like little afternoon children
You can call me psychotic but it’s more like schizophrenic
And I can speak can anyone tell me just where my medicine is
Guess I gotta show these minors just what my avenue is
Man I swear I’m up out of my brain like graduate students
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings
I see your tears, come here, give me your face, let me clear it
But I wonder how it would look if I could peel it back with a skilliet
Then I’mma fill it crack when I hit it, then I’mma spill it back when you ill it
Dammit bobby boy, what in the hell, what in the heaven, what in the Earth
Where is your mom? Why do you curse? Where are you from?
Where was your birth? Where was you first? Why weren’t you in church?
Why is there dirt, all on your shirt? Man I think you’re going berserk..

[Hook]
Am I a psycho? Am I a psycho?
Yeah I’m a psycho, I guess I’m a psycho

As you notice, we don't have the full precise Tech N9ne Ft B.o.B. & Hopsin - Am I A Psycho Lyrics. But if you happen to have some parts or maybe the full lyrics, please put it on the comment below or submit the lyrics directly. You can also suggest songs that are not in this blog yet.

Song Information:

Title: Am I A Psycho?

Artist: Tech N9ne

Length: 4:05

Type: Full

Genre: Rap

Featured Artists: B.o.B, Hopsin

B.o.B. - Good Life Remix Lyrics Ft One Republic

B.o.B. - Good Life Remix Lyrics Ft One Republic

B.o.B. aka Bobby Ray drops a verse on One Republic's track, Good Life producing this brand new remix!

These Good Life Remix Lyrics will be updated without any notifications. Good Life Remix video recorded by B.o.B. is located above.

[B.o.B]
I woke up with my feet up
Sit up, outfit 30 thousand feed’a
But you know, you know how I leaker
My homie ya, tell me how’s the future
I remember back, when i was living in a freezer
Keep my hustle up, so I can keep the heat up
Now, I've got my cheese up
School is … they see us
How you like me now ? I’ll meet you when I'm real!

[One Republic]
Woke up in London yesterday
Found myself in the city near Piccadilly
Don’t really know how I got here
I got some pictures on my phone
New names and numbers that I don’t know
Address to places like Abbey Road
Day turns to night, night turns to whatever we want
We’re young enough to say.

[Chorus]
Oh, this has gotta be the good life
This has gotta be the good life
http://latestvideolyrics.blogspot.com/2011/05/bob-good-life-remix-lyrics-ft-one.html
This could really be a good life, good life!
Say oh, got this feeling that you can’t fight
Like this city is on fire tonight
This could really be a good life
A good, good life!

Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh

[One Republic]
To my friends in New York, I say hello
My friends in L.A., they don’t know
Where I’ve been for the past few years or so
Paris to China to Col-or-ado
Sometimes there’s airplanes I can’t jump out
Sometimes it’s bullshit that don’t work now
We are god of stories but please tell me-e-e-e
What there’s to complain about

When you’re happy like a fool
Let it take you over
When everything is out
You gotta take it in

[Chorus]
Oh, this has gotta be the good life
This has gotta be the good life
This could really be a good life, good life!
Say oh, got this feeling that you can’t fight
Like this city is on fire tonight
This could really be a good life!
A good, good life

[B.o.B]
Yeah!
This, right here is teh definition of timeless
this is incredible-le-es timeless
I could tell you what is behind me
huh, couldn’t say where my mind is?!
Brand hustle things, revearing me as your highness
My family treat you...
They say the best you ain’t yet come
… soak up your eyes.

[Chorus]
Oh, this has gotta be the good life
This has gotta be the good life
This could really be a good life, good life!
Say oh, got this feeling that you can’t fight
Like this city is on fire tonight
This could really be a good life
A good, good life!

Oh, Oh, yeah, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, good, good, life.
Good, good, life, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh.

[One Republic]
Listen, to my friends in New York, I say hello
My friends in L.A. they don’t know
Where I’ve been for the past few years or so
Paris to China to Col-or-ado
Sometimes there’s airplanes I can’ t jump out
Sometimes it’s bullshit that don’t work now
We are god of stories but please tell me
What there’s to complain about

As you notice, we don't have the full precise B.o.B. Ft One Republic - Good Life Remix Lyrics. But if you happen to have some parts or maybe the full lyrics, please put it on the comment below or submit the lyrics directly. You can also suggest songs that are not in this blog yet.

Song Information:

Title: Good Life Remix

Artist: B.o.B.

Length: 3:50

Type: Full Remix

Genre: Rap Alternative

Featured Artists: One Republic

YC - Racks Remix Lyrics

YC - Racks Remix Lyrics

This is like the biggest and longest mega remix of Racks On Racks. This new remix features rappers Young Jeezy, Wiz Khalifa, Waka Flocka, CyHi Da Prynce, Bun B, B.o.B., Yo Gotti, Wale, Cory Gunz, Dose, Cory Mo, Nelly, Twista, Big Sean, Trae and Ace Hood! This 12 minute remix will surely kill your time!

These Racks Remix Lyrics will be updated without any notifications. Racks Remix video recorded by YC is located above.

YC!
(What you got?) Racks on racks on racks
(He got) Racks on racks on racks
(We got) Racks on racks on racks
(Leggo)
(Hey) We got racks on racks on racks
(She got) Racks on racks on racks
(They got) Racks on racks on racks

Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song

We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks

Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back

YC

Still fresh, yeah, and in my Trues
Iced out, okay, cool
Trapped up, know I keep that tool
That racks on racks so ma’fuckin’ fool
All around the globe, bein’ on TV
Everywhere you look, you see YC
Hatin’-ass niggas just wishin’ they were me
YC, YC, YC
http://latestvideolyrics.blogspot.com/2011/05/yc-racks-remix-lyrics.html
Way too big for my ma’fuckin’ jeans
I’m so fly I don’t even got wings
Eyes real low, just blame it on the green
Girl cut up, got lean on lean
That shoebox shit, over with
She put it on the rack, won’t notice it
My bank ‘count, commas all over it
Racks on racks on racks

Young Jeezy

Young, if it’s convertible, then how is it a hardtop?
Bitch, I hit one button, my roof open like a hard spot
Make me throw my diamonds up, bitch, my life was hard knock
Had so much kush and Ciroc, bitch, I think my heart stop
Every night’s a weekend, every day’s a Friday night
You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, bitch, this just my Friday ice
’87, brick fare, yeah, I’m talkin’ thirty racks
All I sold is hundos, where the fuck my twenties at?

Wiz Khalifa

Racks on, racks off, see that blonde stripper, my hat’s off
Lookin’ at my Rollie, ’bout thirty grand what that cost
Smoke like I’m in Cali, fuck takin’ flight, I blast off
Niggas talkin’ tattooes, we should have a tat-off
Got racks on racks on racks, naps on naps on naps
Just made a mill, count another mill, so put that on top of that
Way back in 2004, I told ‘em it was a wrap
Now my life ain’t my life no more, I told you, nigga, it’s a wrap
Oooh, you claim you a dog, my nigga, I’m the vet
We can’t even talk ‘less you got the check, I guess that’s why all of these niggas get bent
They said “Fuck a young nigga, fuck a young nigga”
I know it’s some girls in the crowd right now who wanna fuck a young nigga
I roll one and roll another one bigger
Niggas thinkin’ they sick, well, I’m sicker
I’ma smoke my weed and I’ma drink my liquor
Better make sure you fuck your girl right ‘fore I dick her
Down

Waka Flocka Flame

(Flocka!)
I got racks on top of racks (Uh!), stacks on top of stacks (Uh!)
Bands on top of bands (Uh!), got me fuckin’ her (Uh!) and her friends (Flocka!)
Bad boys don’t do papers (Flex!), that was just for (Flex!) my haters (Clap!)
(Clap, clap, go, go, go, go, go, Flocka!) Clap two times if you druuuunk
Got a bad bitch from the U.K. (Okay!)
She do everything I say (Okay!)
Go crazy when she hear music (Grove Street!)
She got “Grove St.” on replay (Flocka!)
Got racks you don’t understand (Uh-huh)
Money long from here to Japan (Uh-huh)
Know it good when she go no hands
Girl, you got me in a trance

Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song

We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks

Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back

Cyhi The Prynce

Got racks on racks on racks, y’all rap so wack on wax
Purple by the pound, that’s that Flacco, haaaa
I make big plays, I got big chips
Blue money like six Crips
Switch gears like stick shifts
Fresh as hell, no Big Kipp
We buy cars, y’all flip whips
Catch us smokin’ that quick trip
Pitch piff, that’s a handspring
I like to call that a quick flip
Pull triggers like hamstrings
Boy, I’m doin’ my damn thing
Baby blood with them bricks, pimp
Get off a key like I can’t sing
Got the seven on me like big jersey
Ridin’ round, and this bitch dirty
I’m the best, hands down
They nicknamed me 6:30
I’m wit’ Young Dose and YC
Readell Road, that’s my street
Ask around on the Eastside
I’m the s-h-i-t

Bun B

Bun B, I’m underground king
In the candy-painted car on swang
With the top on drop and the trunk on pop
Boy, you can’t tell me a damn thang
Fifth wheel on the back just hang
Hit corners, hit licks, hit stains
With the grill in the front, wood wheel in the blunts
You’re on neon lights in my bank
Yeah, I rep that P-A-T
One hundred, yeah, that’s me
If you don’t recognize, you gon’ see
I’m a straight-up trill OG
In a black-on-black-on-black
Cadillac, like a Mack on clacks
Try to jack and I will attack
It’s a fact that I ain’t givin’ up my stacks like that

B.o.B

Call me Bobby Ray, but it’s not two names
Flyin’ through the city, all-black, Bruce Wayne
No, not bombs over Baghdad
But on the track, you can call me Hussein
That’s why they nervous, hmmm, like I’m flyin’ on the plane with a turban
But I’m fly, y’all just turbulence, exit row, emergency (Mayday!)
As a kid, I was struck by lightning, it’s no wonder I’m electrifying
Fuck a brainstorm, I’ll fuck around and cause a power outage
And it ain’t no rivals, if it was, it’d be no survivors
Just gimme a hour, I’ll light it up like an Eiffel Tower

Yo Gotti

Got bills on top of bills, scales on top of scales
I’m Mr. All White, got yell’ on top of yell’
Got pills all on my phone, these niggas know I’m wrong
Said 50 for a song, and they won’t leave me ‘lone
Gotta front me a brick, that ain’t nothin’ to you
Just ran through a ticket, there ain’t nothin’ to do
Yeah, I love these streets like I love the booth
Mr. Cocaine Music, I’m 100 proof
Got white on white on white, ice on ice on ice
And when I’m in the club it look like lights on lights on lights

Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song

We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks

Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back

Wale

Racks on racks on racks, I’m tryna smash and not call back
My name Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, might call you a cab
Yeah, ridin’ around wit’ that reefer scent, ridin’ around with Ms. Reece and them
When I’m in the groove, I can freak a tune, I’m smoother than alopecia skin
I shows out, like dope when I put that flow down
Like soap when I put my clothes on, I’m jokin’, but I be Foamed out
And all she want is more bags, but all I want is more 1s
I told her “Bring that money back” like all them racks is Nordstrom’s

Cory Gunz

The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my slacks
From the X to the MACs in the Ac, if I ain’t strapped, then the gats on scat
Then he black on ‘em like Tae Bo, then he clap on ‘em like bravo
Throw sacks on ‘em like y’all hoes, got racks on ‘em like tight hoes
Young Money, Cash Money so strong, keep scorin’, I’ma bring it on home
Those Xans and the lean cause zones, somethin’ tan with a mean jawbone
Worldwide, but I got fourth ways, one hat carry like four blades
Petey Pop Off, RIP, free Lou, been lootin’ money since like fourth grade
I’m the shit nowadays, so they wave, no whips, no chains, I’m a slave
Let you niggas know Milita my gang, MCN if you was thinkin’ it’s a game
See me with the twin, buck a shimmy with the gauge
Wasn’t bustin’ Jimmy, I’d be busy gettin’ paid
Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave
I be worried about chips, you be worried about the Lay’s
Bitch

Dose

Got Activist in my Sprite, Benjamins in my Robins
Frank Muller wit’ flooded ice, but I still got my brightness
In the fast lane, gettin’ slow brain in a 2012 Maserati
I’m kickin’, pimpin’, like Liu Kang, my coupe smokin’ like Friday
Puffin’ on that garlic, sick off all the Marley
Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket
Shout out to Sha Money, signed me in a hurry
Daddy was a kingpin, a couple milli buried
Nigga, you ain’t talkin’ nothin’, all in Flight Corps stuntin’
These exclusive 7s, pay 400 for the Jordans
No, you can’t afford ‘em, sharper than a swordsman
Racks on racks, our campaign strong, and YC like my brother

Cory Mo

Catch me in the city with the trunk on crack
Top dropped down, black on black
Fistful of wood, twisted for the good
Check my bank account, got racks on racks
Look around, fool, got a wall full of plaques
Platinum and gold, you gots to love that
Posted up just like a thumbtack
Better hide ya ho, ’cause she bound to get snatched
H-Town, Texas to ATL
She got a fat ass, she prolly know me well
Keep it on the low, never kiss and tell
True player, Cory Mo cold as hell
Shows to do, got records to sell
Got a whole lotta BMI checks in the mail
If ballin’ was a crime, I’d be in jail
Locked up for double life like “What the hell?”

Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song

We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks

Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back

Nelly

Yeah, they call me Country Grammar, my brother out the slammer
I’m crimson color painted, you can call that Alabama
I’m not from Alabama, but check out how I roll tide
He might have the same whip, but check out how I roll mine
Y’all niggas ain’t no stars, y’all only in it for the cars
The sky is your limit, mayne, and mine somewhere ’bout Mars
I ride wit’ them boys in the middle of the map
St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-town, Nap
Down to the Dirty, back up through the trap
But the money don’t stack, man, money overlap
Yeah, y’all better watch it, mayne, right here we lock and load
Two things is for certain, mayne, and one thing is fa sho’
Got a house on hundred acres, I’ve never seen my neighbors
A chick in ATL and from Buckhead to Decatur
Now y’all better leave me alone, got license for my chrome
Don’t lease or your mama phone talkin’ ’bout “Yo’ baby gone!”
Tell the truth, I ain’t gon’ lie, I got so many rides
Don’t know which one I’ma drive, fuck it, I’m just gon’ fly

Twista

Everybody wanna hate because I’m on, blowin’ head back, bottles by the zone
Twista finna get up on the track and spit it the way I do simp-a-ly because I like this song
When I step up out the Maserati car, gotta pull it, pull it, pull it, pull it from the jar
Then I blow, I’ma close out the par’, wit’ some killers and everybody know who we are
Get Money Gang steppin’ through the do’, Chi-cago, cago, cago
Anybody wanna get into it, come on and do it, for security, we gon’ make ‘em pull the flo’
Might as well get it off yo’ chest, while everybody got ammunition on deck
I don’t see them T-Dum-Izzle as a threat, ’cause I got racks on racks on racks
Oh, Twista, I see your future, finna shoot ya, I salute you if you could get at the general in my military
Racks and racks and tracks and stacks and gats, I could destroy an entire village when I kill and bury
‘Cause I manipulate your molecular structure, other words, fill ‘em up wit’ holes
If you try to give it to me at the door, I just thought I had to let you know

Big Sean

(I bet your bitch call me Big)
I got single bitches tryin’, married bitches lyin’
I take ‘em to the crib and leave our future in a condom
I wake up fresher than these motherfuckers as is
Look inside my closet, that shit look like it’s Raks Fifth
Man, that’s racks on racks on racks on top of packs on top of pounds
My chains is pow on pow on pow, I’m off them trees, no eye, no ow
I’m at the altar sayin’ my vows to this Benjamin Franklin power
You buy her a house, I won’t buy her a vowel, you fell in love, and I fell in her mouth
They called her Dickface, she called her connect
(Called her connect) You call her collect
I call to collect, no need for a pet
If I throw this paper, yo’ bitch gon’ fetch
(Do it!) B-i-g
And the track gon’ be aight as long as we got me
(I do it)

Trae

I’m the hood if you wondered where I’m at (Where I’m at)
In the back of a Chevy that’s all black (All black)
Racks on racks, I don’t know how to act (Act)
Track and field with the birds, I’m runnin’ ‘em like track (Track)
Free throws of money, bet you can’t blind (Blind)
King of the club, I bet you can’t top (Top)
Bitch niggas hate the fact I get guap (Guap)
Or the fact when the money go up, it won’t stop (Boy!)
I’m in the club, tryna show ‘em how to stunt (Stunt)
Tryna pick up what I’m throw, it prolly take about a month (Month)
The club underwater, have ‘em runnin’ out the front
While I’m somewhere in the back, gettin’ blowed like a blunt (Blunt)
No need to trip, you can tell ‘em that I’m cool as hell (Cool as hell)
‘Cause it’s the case I know the pack of pumas well (Pumas well)
I’m a blood motherfucker, that dude’ll tell (Dude’ll tell)
Got 47 ‘neath the old-school as well (School as well)
I got lights on my wrist that’ll flash like cop (Cops)
Couple of foreign cars that I ride no top (Tops)
Couple of whi-whips that I ride like yachts (Yachts)
A couple of haters lookin’, I’m knowin’ them niggas hot (Hot)
And tell ‘em that I don’t give a damn
Hard as a motherfucker, tell ‘em I was HAM
Call it what you want, I’ma do it for the fam
Yeah, that’s the type of nigga that I am

Ace Hood

Okay, I’m back off into this bitch (This bitch!)
Wit’ a cup, and it’s full of that liq’ (Hot!)
Got racks, ain’t talkin’ tits (Ew-way!)
Big stacks, no Lego bricks (Woo!)
Hit a trick and a fiendin’ nigga got it
I keep that hottie, just look at her body (Hey!)
Blew twenty bands in that King of Diamonds
Sorry, that’s just part of my hobby (Swoop!)
And I hear ‘em feelin’ my Florida swagger, so dope, shit, I sold y’all copies
That ice be onto my neck and wrist, now anybody wanna play some hockey
I’m that nigga in fact (In fact), paper tall as Shaq (Oh, boy!)
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, it’ll be on your local Walmart rack
Soon

Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song

We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks

Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back

As you notice, we don't have the full precise YC - Racks Remix Lyrics. But if you happen to have some parts or maybe the full lyrics, please put it on the comment below or submit the lyrics directly. You can also suggest songs that are not in this blog yet.

Kesha - Blow Remix Lyrics Ft B.o.B.

Kesha - Blow Remix Lyrics Ft B.o.B.

An official remix of Kesha/Ke$ha's dancehall club banger track "Blow" has been released! The remix was made by rapper Bobby Ray aka B.o.B.. With him incorporating a verse at the first start of the song.

These Blow Remix Lyrics will be updated without any notifications. Blow Remix video recorded by Kesha is located above.

Blowwwwwwwww

[B.o.B]
Just walked in, shades on my face.
Eyes on my kicks, lights on my face.
Speakers gonna blow, speakers got bass.
Bottles on ice, haters gonna hate.
Bobby don’t care, Bobby so straight.
Bobby from the hood so Bobby don’t play.
Bobby burn good when it probably gonna say
Cigarette (?)like . so bon appetite just (?)
Blow like a mistle white cliff cush
I’ll be gone till November (?) burn to my dealer
You’d better remember (?) from the city in a play
Night starts out at the ATM, probably won’t end till 8 a.m.
Yeah, I’m an ATLien, an extraterrestrial obsessed with a vegetable.
up in the air with no parachute I ain’t contest that the best in the area
even the vision (?) to see where I’m coming from
I leave what I’ve (?)done
Haters miss me with a couple (?) about to blow up and push it in the air
Not about (?) like a (?)jump.

Back door cracked
We don't need a key
We get in for free
No VIP sleaze

Drink that Kool-Aid
Follow my lead
Now you're one of us
You're coming with me

It's time to kill the lights
And shut the DJ down
(This place about to)
Tonight were taking over
No one's getting out

This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to

Now what (What)
We're taking control
We get what we want
We do what you don't

Dirt and glitter
Cover the floor
We're pretty and sick
http://latestvideolyrics.blogspot.com/2011/05/kesha-blow-remix-lyrics-ft-bob.html
We're young and we're bored (Ha)

It's time to lose your mind
And let the crazy out

(This place about to)
Tonight we're taking names
'Cause we don't mess around

This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to

(Blow)

Go, go, go, go insane
Go insane
Throw some glitter
Make it rain on him
Let me see them Hanes
Let me, let me see them Hanes

Go insane
Go insane
Throw some glitter
Make it rain on him
Let me see them Hanes
Let me, let me see them Hanes (C'mon)

We are taking, over (Blow)
Get used to it, over (Blow)

This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to blow
Blow (Oh)
This place about to blow (Oh)
Blow
This place about to blow
Blow
This place about to

As you notice, we don't have the full precise Kesha - Blow Remix Lyrics Ft B.o.B. . But if you happen to have some parts or maybe the full lyrics, please put it on the comment below or submit the lyrics directly. You can also suggest songs that are not in this blog yet.