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Russian Creme
Key Glock
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Ayy, I need some more Russians
Yeah, the five pack
I got big rocks jumpin' out my brand new Patek watch (ice, ice, ice)
Ice ice baby, uh-huh, I got a whole lot (yeah)
Niggas you's a nobody (nobody), you ain't got no bodies (no bodies)
These niggas they know 'bout it (Glock)
These niggas know 'bout me (Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up)
Step up on the scene
Diamonds bling, these hoes scream
Checkerboard Louis V
I'm so fresh and so clean clean
Stuff them bands in my jeans
Slap them thirties in them things
Pull the trigger, let it sing
Then go smoke a Russian Cream
I got money blue and green
Drop them racks on double G's
Yeah, I'ma Gucci fiend
Feel like Tarzan, all these trees
I get so high I can't breathe
Like LeBron, bitch I'm a king
But I never leave my heat
Yeah, what the fuck you mean
Hop in and hear the exhaust
Hit the gas, watch me get lost
Tell that bitch keep on her drawers, yeah
'Cause you know I want them jaws, yeah
No you can't text or can't call, no
I got a bitch at the house, yeah
Give that ho straight to my dawg, yeah
Dunk that ho like basketball, uh
You know I'm all 'bout my figures (bitch)
Young nigga gettin' them digits (rich)
Young niggas goin' gorilla (ape)
I heard you be talkin' that peeler
Boy, you know you not no killer (play)
My chopper eat niggas for dinner (ayy)
My diamonds is ill, make you shiver
This codeine is eatin' my liver
Uh, duh, I drink mud, yuh, pourin' just because
On my rose I spent a dub, yuh, shinin' like a bug
Buy that shit, don't give a fuck
Yeah, this hustlin' in my blood
My heart cold, can't show no love
Yeah, my grandma raised a thug
Yeah, I bought them racks out (racks out)
Everything I cashed out (cashed out)
Left the lot, I smashed out
Come get your boss and cash out
Get high 'til I pass out (on God)
From the back, she pass out
Pull her tracks, she tap out
Big Glock make her spazz out (Glock)
Step up on the scene
Diamonds bling, these hoes scream
Checkerboard Louis V
I'm so fresh and so clean clean
Stuff them bands in my jeans
Slap them thirties in them things
Pull the trigger, let it sing
Then go smoke a Russian cream