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[Produced by Murda Beats] |
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[Intro : Quavo] |
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50, 40, there he go ... |
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30, down sideline, UH ! |
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20, there he go ! |
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Touchdown, touchdown ! |
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Go! Go! Go! |
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[Hook : Quavo] |
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Running with that sack, Emmitt Smith |
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Deuce-deuce pocket rocket, Emmitt Smith |
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I just touched down on a ******* ***** |
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I just touched down on a ******* ***** |
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Emmitt Smith, Emmitt-Emmitt Smith, Emmitt-Emmitt Smith |
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Emmitt Smith, Emmitt-Emmitt Smith, Emmitt Smith |
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I just touched down on a ******* ***** |
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I just touched down on a ******* ***** |
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[Verse 1 : Quavo] |
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Finessing the plug, I run with that sack and I make a touchdown |
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Ran up the money, hall of fame of finnesse, ain't no Jim Brown |
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I know my momma she proud of me |
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Young rich *****, we the new trend now |
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Came a long way, from kicking the doors |
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Now people they pay me in PayPal |
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Want me to ***** with you cause I came up *****? |
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My momma she told me she love me, go get money *****! |
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I came a long way |
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From trapping in trenches to rockin' the mic and I did it, we did it |
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My pockets on Pinky and I'm taking a pic |
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From flying from city to city |
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[Hook] |
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[Verse 2 : Takeoff] |
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Run with the sack like I'm Emmitt and I keep the Emmitt for *****s who envy |
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Versace, Versace, Givenchy, Givenchy |
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With double F's on me, no Fendi |
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My *****s ain't feelin' their *****es |
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They put on their ski-masks, they leavin' no witness |
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My wrist it be spinnin' I'm doin' my fitness |
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Hall of fame trappin', young *****s I'm feedin' |
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My wrist game real sick so I need soup by Mrs Campbells |
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I'm baking and dodging the camera |
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Young ***** running with the work, Earl Campbell |
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Trapping in bandos and shelters |
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Young Takeoff and I'm finna buy Delta |
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Pourin' that 2 plus 2 in my Fanta |
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Your pockets look like they got cancer |
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I just bought a brand new Mercedes from Haiti and set it on some Walter Paytons |
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My 'migo he asked me to front him a kilo, I threw it to him like I was Peyton |
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I told momma we gon' make it |
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Now I'm on trips Jamaica |
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Making a trip to go get the narcotics |
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I set the fire with this pocket, rocket |
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[Hook] |
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[Verse 3 : Offset] |
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Emmitt, Emmitt, touchdown |
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"PHWIW, PHWIW, PHWIW, PHWIW, PHWIW!" |
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"GLAW, BOW!" |
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That's a hundred rounds |
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"GLAW, GLAW!" |
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***** lay it down |
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None of my plugs from America, Africa, Australia |
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Chopper gon' bite like Bull Terriers |
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None of my *****s they scared of yah! |
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Hang a ***** ***** like ornament ***** |
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Broke ass ***** unfortunate |
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I keep the babies like orphanage babies! |
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Go to the moon like astrologist |
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We not acceptin' apologies |
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Sellin' the **** to economies |
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Young rich ***** ridin' 'round in the Bentley |
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Throwin' money out the ceiling momma told me I'm ignant! |
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I'm two steps ahead of ya, never been regular |
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Hit a ***** with the anti**** and we burry him |
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Hop in the Jag', I'm droppin' the top back |
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Smoking on gas like a ***** got cataracts |
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Duck ass ***** I'm calling you Aflac |
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Alley oop dunking them bricks it’s a Shaq attack |
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Only one bird can bring the whole corner back |
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Like Offset been throwin' like a quarterback |
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[Hook] |