Flame On

歌手: Aitch Cordae • 专辑:Lost Files • 发布时间:2023-11-17
作词 : Harrison Armstrong/Jacob Jones/Taras Slusarenko/Cordae Dunston
 作曲 : Harrison Armstrong/Jacob Jones/Taras Slusarenko/Cordae Dunston
 Yeah, hit the booth, I turn flame on (Yeah)
 Hundred on me, no chain on (Woo)
 Shawty likes what I rap 'bout, I still sing to her like Trey Songz (Ah, ah)
 Got the track, she want Aitch on
 **** these rappers, it's game on
 At this point, they all know what's good, I ain't gotta say where I came from (Let's go)
 Ain't nothin' to pull up and flex
 **** it, I'm stuck at your necks
 Man get the p***y and start buyin' drip for the gyal
 But won't get their mum an address (Yeah)
 Brothers are bummy, I know that they been watchin' the kid
 Now, they wanna come play with the best
 Run up this money, when I get stopped from thе pigs, only time that I'm takin' a rest

 Yeah, uh
 Aftеr I **** on this thot for a hour, the only time I'm takin' a rest
 How many millions a nigga gon' make in a year is the only time makin' a guess
 I don't give a shit if these mother****ers hate on a nigga, you know that they hate on the best
 Got my advance and went straight to Goldman Sachs, and they told me they can invest
 Shout out to my dentist, got brothers that's doin' life sentence, society call 'em a menace
 So, I flew out to Manny, a nine-hour flight off a Xanny
 And Aitch brought me straight to the trenches
 I spoil my daughter before she can even start callin'
 Her diaper bag draped in Givenchy
 Know music my callin'
 My whole life I'm gon' be ballin'
 This shit is not on me, it's in me

 We get them racks fresh off a sack
 No Secret Service, we dressed in all-black
 High-level shit where I might get a tat'
 And they free Little Sim, bet, you know he up next
 Fresh off a jet, hold up the set
 'Cause b***h, you don't know me, so, show me respect
 More time, he see me, I'm blowin' a check
 If you wearin' a vest, I'ma go for the head (Yeah)

 Crazy girl, she my favourite girl, that's my baby girl
 It's Aitch your girl
 Mr. Take Your Girl, d**k might make your world
 Backshots on backshots, then turn around and come face me, girl
 Backshots on backshots, then, then bust a nut and I'm out (Woo)
 Take her phone 'fore I take her home
 How can she **** me for clout?
 Maybach or your bae back? Either way, I'm makin' them bounce
 Babygyal with that K cat, you know I'm tryna gain me some pounds
 Got the p***y on playback, I like the way that it sounds
 Just got a coupe and a Jeep, I'm tired of usin' my feet
 Get in the back, bill a spliff and I'm lightin' it up
 Same thing I do on a beat
 P***y, don't push me, it's gonna get bumpy
 I been on the Henny, I'm drinkin' it neat
 Feelin' all comfy, I been gettin' the money
 I'm thinkin' 'bout dough, you been thinkin' 'bout me
 Stack up this paper, I make it and save it for later, I'm takin' it straight to the bank
 It could be Canada, Paris, LA, or Dubai, all the ladies go straight for the mank
 Know what I'm doin', I ain't tryna take no advice, I need millis to take an advance
 B***h, I'm a rapper, I'm makin' a slapper
 I'm not on the internet makin' a dance

 Yeah, ayy, go for the head, we aimin' to kill
 You worship these rappers who ain't even real
 I got some moves to make
 You think I was Lizzo the way that I pursue the cake
 And you got a rude awakenin'
 If you was hatin', my niggas is cool but patient
 The tool's adjacent
 The chopper, it hit his whole body and have his ass Uzi shakin'
 The streets was dry
 But, **** it, we wet the whole block up, this Draco a lubrication
 The crib is new and gated
 The cars is foreign, the lifestyle is too outrageous
  like, this shit a new formation
 My nigga got off of probation
 **** the officers apart of the cases
 **** twelve but I copped a Mercedes
 Just landed in Manchester
 Middle finger to the opps, not a hand gesture
 So many whips, that shit upset ancestors
 But, we ball like van Hecke
 In the tenth grade, I thought that we made it when mama had moved us to Lancaster
 But, what I get off a show might be reparations, lil' nigga, and extra

 We get them racks fresh off a sack
 No Secret Service, we dressed in all-black
 High-level shit where I might get a tat'
 And they free Little Sim, bet, you know he up next
 Fresh off a jet, hold up the set
 'Cause b***h, you don't know me, so, show me respect
 More time, he see me, I'm blowin' a check
 If you wearin' a vest, I'ma go for the head
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