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
Curren$y

Jermaine Dupri

 

Jermaine Dupri

(album: Collection Agency - 2021)


La Musica De Harry Fraud (Uh)

Rain on the Phantom windshield, tears when the friends kill
How that shit feel? You not equipped for the field
And they smell fear, clouds darken as they draw near
How'd you get here shit, like a shitty record deal
Pulled up on factory wheels with the racing gear
I could make a million appear, no back and forth
With a boss who could have you brought up in the trunk of a car
At that point it's past talk, so you should leave it in park
That's way more smart, Andretti, I put years into this art
You cannot compare me, went from hood rich to wealthy
A pandemic outside, I'm tryna stay healthy, God help me
I'm dope as fuck, they hassle me in airports 'cause dogs smell me
Y'all sketchy, that's why y'all can't catch me, try to text me
Five Chevys front the house, I'm inside smoked out
With some NBA socks on 'cause a nigga balling, huh
Threw me in the hole, put on hella gold and then I crawled out
Brung them cars out, turned some broads out
Underground superstars, now, bitch, what you talking 'bout?
I put the homies in position to get millions
Pray to D'Ussé every year I get a new Bentley, thumbing through Benjis
Rose gold Forgis looking like the largest pennies underneath the foreign
Success make you a target in my city
I'm never sleeping, but I dream big
As a teen I watched MTV Cribs
Jermaine Dupri had the Continental T in the garage
And said you ain't a big dog unless you got one of these, yeah
And now I'm driving precision because now I'm that nigga
Some of my cars self-park, but I don't trust it
All them funky bitches who think they smart play Mario Kart with they hearts
See a OG nod slow, I'll low-key tear you apart
Simple as pimping the pen and throwing the motherfucking thought
Never missing my mark
Game-winner from the three point arc
A dozen Lamborghinis send 'em in a panic
It was madness like March, the watch froze
My watch is in the vault, too icy need, need to thaw out

Yeah
Chevys on switches, baby
Smoke weed in it, post it in your pictures
Hitting switches on Chef Highway, dipping
Yeah

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?