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Taste GVTmix Lyrics - Artist : Audio Push
[Oktane:]
(Los Angeles Leakers) One quick take, lay it down, get away Yeah, I said, one quick take, lay it down, get away Yeah, I like that, look, huh One quick take, lay it down, get away Heavy lift with the spliff Take a whiff get a taste I looked up, niggas fashion whack I gave you niggas hella style Now your dad is back, imagine that Niggas need platinum plaques You not that, can't rap You gotta pad them stats at me I'm out here moving smarter than the skyline Ain't gotta sell a million records to make a million dollars You niggas all my kids, I got teens, I got toddlers I ain't even got no babies of my own, they all fostered It's still young rasta, hair like pasta We all on them songs that you knock back shots to, huh I'm not the one they sending shots to She got no hair on it, I call her Mac-2 Everybody sweatin' the legend soon as we drop through She text me when she need that, not you Tryna get a taste, really tryna get a taste And a nigga always ready, I don't make her wait I make her wet, make her cum, make her, make her play I get my phone, dial a number, then I make a play We pick it right up on the spot, we don't lay away And I ain't ever been a bop, and never player hate I used to eat on paper plates on my day-to-day So if you ever half love then nigga baby stay away The plane finna take off, get high, get lost in the back Layed back, that's a fade away As you can see, I ain't really come to play today Tyga, what it is, link soon, let's blow they face away, huh And we right back to it Pass it to my brother, he gon clean it up And if my girl want a taste, I let her eat it up Aight I'm gone, it's off the back boy, P what up? [Price:] I'ma put the strip right on her plate It's mister "always late" Skin black, back to back This shit feel like double tape Led by example, set the tone, paved the way Like a free sample, everybody want a taste Had the biggest moments Had the bitches goin' Niggas quitted on us Had some bitter moments Now the kid is growin' Straight from landin' on them It depended on them Big percentage on them I got this Gucci on my [?] Had another son, I had to double up the hustle Still poppin' out, it ain't hard to find a real Foreign slidin' down the 10, dosin' up behind the wheel If I'm in the building, it ain't hard to find a kill West coast culture, still hard to find my chill Brick by brick, I watched it built Kept it a hundred, scored a hundred on every test My roof solid, your little branches couldn't test I've had [?] say we the best Fuck a bar, that's real talk Called the LA Leakers said we killed this shit off It's hard to hear that smalltalk, way up here at the top It ain't nothin' like a pretty girl, who don't care if you hot But all I see is studs, tryna get a share of my crops All she do is watch "Insecure", and swear that she not, yeah But I still want a taste, climb out of them jeans With these raps, I'm a grade to God, I'm supreme You only trippin' on your tip, when you slide with your team I'm with my freak on the sneak, like yaddadaymean Been them niggas, since Tif got on theme song Ain't no back-and-forths, ain't' no ping pong Never tell your right hand what your left went through We rush it to the back, they rush to conclusions Taste, taste, we could use... ey, aight cool |
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