Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Pusha T

Millions

 

Millions

(album: Wrath Of Caine - 2013)


[Pusha T:]
You know what happens when G.O.O.D. Music and MMG get together right?
We get that money

Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet

Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet

This that shit that ya'll wanted?
This shit cook up hard don't it?
Ya'll gotta beg my pardon on it
But this shit sound like God don't it? (yeah)
I'm tired nigga and ya'll gotta pay your tithes nigga
Call my Phantom the Holy Ghost
Church on chrome wheel tires nigga
Pop tags when I'm paranoid
'Cause the pawn shop was my paradise
I was dead pop when that powder came
For that knot saved in that shoe box
Blue tops, blue tops, bad bitch in that blue fox
This big face is in Blu-ray and these black diamonds like Boondocks

I restore the feeling of when niggas made a killing
Hiding choppers in the closet half a million in the ceiling
And them whores with angel faces crying loud with ill intentions
Just so I can buy them Christians have em shitting on all their bitches, ah!

Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet

Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet

[Rick Ross:]
I'm haunted by horror stories, wanna-be home owners
Horrible outcome, a dope boy got one motive
Cries when he convicted, cried on every visit
I'm crying saying his name, ride for all my niggas
Used to fiddle my finger 'til I found me a fortune
Finger fuck a Ferrari, south of France early morning
Did drugs with Donatella, Versace my acappella
Never see me in Neiman's, niggas committing treason
Soft loafer preferred, frost, organic herb
Stay away from the Forbes, if I only could tell you more
I got this I got that, I got that I got this
Got a kilo for 20, my choppas say I'm the shit

[Pusha T:]
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet

Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet

This that shit y'all ask for
Make a nigga mash on the gas, floor
Two-door, four-door
Roll through the hood like task force
Fast forward–oops! They say they wanna see proof
My record sales ain't much as theirs
And we still ride the same coupes
How we still fuck the same hoes
Why we still buy the same clothes
How we both got the same watch
I'm just keeping y'all on y'all toes
Dope boys, gold mine
That price drop and that coke rise
Then set it over that blue flame
Then hang it dry like clothes line

I restore the feeling of when niggas made a killing
Hiding choppers in the closet half a million in the ceiling
Got the razor on the counter Arm & Hammer in the kitchen
Just to keep my feet in Christians and keep fucking all y'all bitches aah!

Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet

Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Millions, millions in the ceiling
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet
Choppers, choppers in the closet

This that shit that ya'll wanted, this shit sound like God don't it
This that shit that ya'll wanted, this shit sound like God don't it
This that shit that ya'll wanted, this shit sound like God don't it
This that shit that ya'll wanted, this shit sound like God don't it

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?