Young Dolph – Drop It Off (feat. Migos) (Gelato Album)

[Intro: Young Dolph & Quavo]
Yeah yeah it’s Dolph, Migos

[Hook: Quavo & Young Dolph]
Drop that sack off, drop the racks off
Bad bitch in my car, takin’ her panties off
We know you real soft, that’s real talk (real talk)
This is for my niggas that get them birds off (yeah yeah)
I know I got them people on my coattail (12)
If you ain’t getting no money
I wish you well (go get the money)
I’m havin’ too much traffic, neighbors gon’ tell (aye, pull up)
I gotta put you down by my clientele

[Verse 1: Young Dolph]
Clientele jumpin’ think I’m on to somethin’
I never had nothin’, that’s why I’m always stuntin’ (yea)
My right hand man was there when nobody wasn’t
You ever seen three million in cash nigga, in all hundreds
Shut the spot down I smell the drug task coming
Throw away all the phones, uh
I got rich off strong, yeah
If you take care of your family then you’re my type of nigga
I might sit down and trap and count some millions with you (woah) [?] Can’t do nothing with a broke hoe
Can’t trust a nigga cause where I come from they cut throat
You play ball, sell weed, or you cooking dope (which one)
If it ain’t bout big money, then I ain’t who you lookin’ for

[Hook: Young Dolph & Quavo]
Drop that sack off, drop the racks off
Takin’ her panties off
We know you real soft, yeah that’s real talk
This for my niggas get them birds off
I know I got them people on my coattail (12)
If you ain’t getting money wish you well (go get the money)
I’m havin’ too much traffic, neighbors gon’ tell (aye, pull up)
I gotta put you down by my clientele

[Verse 2: Quavo, Takeoff, & Offset]
Colossal, Gelato
Neighbors knockin’ at my door, ask what’s that loud smell? (Cookie)
Draco, aimin’ at my peephole (peephole)
Ain’t bout no violence, they gon’ tell, quick to call 12
Dribble the ball, bale, we sellin’ the raw, shells
He poppin’ that lame shit
The chopper shoot like it’s a ball player
Give me the pot, give me the pot, and I bet I turn it to paste
Who call the shots, who talk on wires?
I bet I turn em to waste
I keep the fire, Michael Myers
I’m in the dark, connivin’
Bombin’, Osama Bin Laden
Under the ground plottin’
Smokin’ on poison ivy, bricks in a porta-potty (bricks)
When I’m with Dolph we divin’
Slippery diamonds slidin’

[Hook: Quavo & Young Dolph]
Drop that sack off, drop the racks off
Bad bitch in my car, takin’ her panties off
We know you real soft, that’s real talk (real talk)
This is for my niggas that get them birds off (yeah yeah)
I know I got them people on my coattail (12)
If you ain’t getting no money
I wish you well (go get the money)
I’m havin’ too much traffic, neighbors gon’ tell (aye, pull up)
I gotta put you down by my clientele

Drop it off – Young Dolph feat. Migos lyrics

Lyrics Young Dolph – Drop it off

Drop that sack off, drop the racks off
Bad b*tch in my car, takin’ her panties off
We know you real soft, that’s real talk (real talk)
This is for my niggas that get them birds off (yeah yeah)
I know I got them people on my coattail (12)
If you ain’t getting no money
I wish you well (go get the money)
I’m havin’ too much traffic, neighbors don’t tell
I gotta put you down by my clientele.(drop it off)

Clientele jumpin’ think I’m on to somethin’
I never had nothin’, that’s why I’m always stuntin’
My right hand man was .. when nobody wasn’t
You ever seen three million in cash nigga, in all hundreds
Shut the spot down I smell the drug task coming
Throw away all the phones, uh
I got rich off strong, yeah
If you take care of your family then you’re my type of nigga
I might sit down and trap and count some millions with you (woah) .. Can’t do nothing with a broke hoe
Can’t trust a nigga cause where I come from they cut throat
You play ball, sell weed, or you cooking dope (which one)
If it ain’t bout big money, then I ain’t who you lookin’ for.

Drop that sack off, drop the racks off
Takin’ her panties off
We know you real soft, yeah that’s real talk
This for my niggas get them birds off
I know I got them people on my coattail (12)
If you ain’t getting money wish you well (go get the money)
I’m havin’ too much traffic, neighbors don’t tell (aye, pull up)
I gotta put you down by my clientele.

Colasso, Gelato
Neighbors knockin’ at my door askin’ what’s that loud smell? (Cookie)
Draco, aimin’ at my peephole (peephole)
Ain’t bout no violence, they gon’ tell, quick to call 12
Dribble the ball, bale, we sellin’ the raw, shells
He poppin’ that lame shit
The chopper shoot like it’s a ball player
Give me the pot, give me the pot, and I bet I turn it to paste
Who call the shots, who talk on wires?
I bet I turn em to waste
I keep the fire, Michael Myers
I’m in the dark, connivin’
Osama Bin Laden, under the ground plottin’
Smokin’ on poison ivy, bricks in a porta-potty (bricks)
When I’m with Dolph we slidin’.

Drop that sack off, drop the racks off
Bad b*tch in my car, takin’ her panties off
We know you real soft, that’s real talk (real talk)
This is for my niggas that get them birds off (yeahhh yeahhh)
I know I got them people on my coattail (12)
If you ain’t getting no money
I wish you well (go get the money)
I’m havin’ too much traffic, neighbors don’t tell (aye, pull up)
I gotta put you down by my clienteleee.(drop it off)
Young Dolph lyrics
Video off

Joe Budden – Serious lyrics

[Hook: Joell Ortiz + Joe Budden]
You niggas want war? Trust me you don’t want war
Homeboy, you don’t know how serious it could be
Man, the feeling starts, it’s a million man march
No games, all my soldiers as serious as can be be
When we pull up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho
Then we run up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz + Joe Budden]
Man, y’all done gone and did it, well come on with it
The fifth got a kick, but won’t slip, I rubber gripped it
Wrap you in them sheets on Christmas, I’m double-gifted
Double barrel shotty, you double jointed when you flippin’
Ask about your boy, they’ll tell you I’m not the fella
Tomato sauce whoever tryna shred up my mozzarella
I guess it’s in my genes, no prints if I got the poke out
Man, let these nigga’s reach, I’m Iverson with the blow out
Sometimes you gotta show out, just to show ’em what Joe ’bout
Give ’em the green light, well fuck it, where we even goin’ now?
Got shooters on the scanner, you never know what we spoke ’bout
Picture Tony Montana with hammers runnin’ in Sos’ house
Ghost Town
Bullets in the beach chair, lines drawn, break the sand
Got bad news, sit ’em down, nah, nigga take a stand
Dirty crackheads run up on you, “What you was sayin’, man?”
It’s lights out, won’t even take a bath, ha
[Hook: Joell Ortiz + Joe Budden]
You niggas want war? Trust me you don’t want war
Homeboy, you don’t know how serious it could be
Man, the feeling starts, it’s a million man march
No games, all my soldiers as serious as can be be
When we pull up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho
Then we run up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho

[Interlude]
You dick-faced ass nigga’s asked for it so… here they come

[Verse 2: Joe Budden + Joell Ortiz]
No matter where they from I disappeared and dump
No choice but to swear they dumb, but we’re not dumb
I’m on my Luke Skywalker, get your Jedi spun
I’m on my DMC, I hear them things rev, y’all run
Guess it’s begun, get the private jet, pilot set
Alibi in check, to the island head, make sure it’s no survivors left
‘Round up all the hostages, bum stiggity bum, stiggity bum
Hey, I mean a lot of them, shit be soundin’ like Das EFX
I pay no mind to the talkin’ ’til it’s a heightened threat
Never baby nigga’s with envy to give me my respect
I eject bullets from rifles wearin’ a sniper vest
Find your body OTC, you’re like a Prilosec
Y’all won’t even hear me comin’, Michael Myers’ steps
Hear that thing ch-ch-choppin’ ’til no tires left
Bulldogs bark, 4s roars like a lion’s breath
I love new toys, so I invest

[Hook: Joell Ortiz + Joe Budden]
You niggas want war? Trust me you don’t want war
Homeboy, you don’t know how serious it could be
Man, the feeling starts, it’s a million man march
No games, all my soldiers as serious as can be be
When we pull up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho
Then we run up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho

Joe Budden – Serious (Rage & The Machine Album) letras

[Hook: Joell Ortiz + Joe Budden]
You niggas want war? Trust me you don’t want war
Homeboy, you don’t know how serious it could be
Man, the feeling starts, it’s a million man march
No games, all my soldiers as serious as can be be
When we pull up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho
Then we run up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz + Joe Budden]
Man, y’all done gone and did it, well come on with it
The fifth got a kick, but won’t slip, I rubber gripped it
Wrap you in them sheets on Christmas, I’m double-gifted
Double barrel shotty, you double jointed when you flippin’
Ask about your boy, they’ll tell you I’m not the fella
Tomato sauce whoever tryna shred up my mozzarella
I guess it’s in my genes, no prints if I got the poke out
Man, let these nigga’s reach, I’m Iverson with the blow out
Sometimes you gotta show out, just to show ’em what Joe ’bout
Give ’em the green light, well fuck it, where we even goin’ now?
Got shooters on the scanner, you never know what we spoke ’bout
Picture Tony Montana with hammers runnin’ in Sos’ house
Ghost Town
Bullets in the beach chair, lines drawn, break the sand
Got bad news, sit ’em down, nah, nigga take a stand
Dirty crackheads run up on you, "What you was sayin’, man?"
It’s lights out, won’t even take a bath, ha
[Hook: Joell Ortiz + Joe Budden]
You niggas want war? Trust me you don’t want war
Homeboy, you don’t know how serious it could be
Man, the feeling starts, it’s a million man march
No games, all my soldiers as serious as can be be
When we pull up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho
Then we run up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho

[Interlude]
You dick-faced ass nigga’s asked for it so… here they come

[Verse 2: Joe Budden + Joell Ortiz]
No matter where they from I disappeared and dump
No choice but to swear they dumb, but we’re not dumb
I’m on my Luke Skywalker, get your Jedi spun
I’m on my DMC, I hear them things rev, y’all run
Guess it’s begun, get the private jet, pilot set
Alibi in check, to the island head, make sure it’s no survivors left
‘Round up all the hostages, bum stiggity bum, stiggity bum
Hey, I mean a lot of them, shit be soundin’ like Das EFX
I pay no mind to the talkin’ ’til it’s a heightened threat
Never baby nigga’s with envy to give me my respect
I eject bullets from rifles wearin’ a sniper vest
Find your body OTC, you’re like a Prilosec
Y’all won’t even hear me comin’, Michael Myers’ steps
Hear that thing ch-ch-choppin’ ’til no tires left
Bulldogs bark, 4s roars like a lion’s breath
I love new toys, so I invest

[Hook: Joell Ortiz + Joe Budden]
You niggas want war? Trust me you don’t want war
Homeboy, you don’t know how serious it could be
Man, the feeling starts, it’s a million man march
No games, all my soldiers as serious as can be be
When we pull up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho
Then we run up like, hey ya, hey ya, hey ya, ho