Berner - Radio lyrics
[Berner - Radio lyrics]
They won’t play this on the radio (naw)
All I talk about is yayo (yeah)
20 grams on my scale (yeah)
A hundred piece in the mail yo
You know I get it
Pretty girls keep ya boy fitted
Cattin off in my new shit, fuck a speed limit
Doing 90, spend a week in Hawaii
Blow 50 on a new chain
The feds wanna fine me
The radio probably won’t play this
But the homies in the pen gon’ bang it
The coke made me famous
This handgun is stainless, 24 karat gold
That vintage shit you rock, it’s plated
A few million dollar companies, I created
Got me up late night, feeling all anxious
Break a brick open, taste it
I go through phases
Latin girls and Asians, exchanging fuck faces
I made a couple hundred grand out my basement
20 lights had me high outside
And sliding in my spaceship
ATL, Las Vegas and Texas
Let’s make a toast, we done got rich together
They won’t play this on the radio (naw)
All I talk about is yayo (yeah)
20 grams on my scale (yeah)
A hundred piece in the mail yo
Politicking late night where the fiends are
Pulling out exotic smoke, out the weed jar
M6 BMR pour up til the leans gone
501 jeans on, baby told me keep going
Met her at the strip club
She live across the bridge
Left her man, he a sucka
He ain’t about his biz
I seen shit to make the average man flip out
Is he really real? Would he really sit down?
20 sacks and try and keep all my hundreds
Imma buy ‘em all
And put ‘em up while it’s flooded
When it’s dry, I’m the man again
Pop an Ativan
Hit the mall, see my line on a mannequin
Lost a pack again, now I’m panicking
Why this happening? It’s hard to
Get the package in
Trafficking, makes me never want to rap again
You won’t hear this on the radio
During traffic jam
They won’t play this on the radio (naw)
All I talk about is yayo (yeah)
20 grams on my scale (yeah)
A hundred piece in the mail yo
Radio, radio, radio yayo, yayo, yayo
Scale, scale, scale
Mail yo, mail yo, mail yo
All I talk about is yayo (yeah)
20 grams on my scale (yeah)
A hundred piece in the mail yo
You know I get it
Pretty girls keep ya boy fitted
Cattin off in my new shit, fuck a speed limit
Doing 90, spend a week in Hawaii
Blow 50 on a new chain
The feds wanna fine me
The radio probably won’t play this
But the homies in the pen gon’ bang it
The coke made me famous
This handgun is stainless, 24 karat gold
That vintage shit you rock, it’s plated
A few million dollar companies, I created
Got me up late night, feeling all anxious
Break a brick open, taste it
I go through phases
Latin girls and Asians, exchanging fuck faces
I made a couple hundred grand out my basement
20 lights had me high outside
And sliding in my spaceship
ATL, Las Vegas and Texas
Let’s make a toast, we done got rich together
They won’t play this on the radio (naw)
All I talk about is yayo (yeah)
20 grams on my scale (yeah)
A hundred piece in the mail yo
Politicking late night where the fiends are
Pulling out exotic smoke, out the weed jar
M6 BMR pour up til the leans gone
501 jeans on, baby told me keep going
Met her at the strip club
She live across the bridge
Left her man, he a sucka
He ain’t about his biz
I seen shit to make the average man flip out
Is he really real? Would he really sit down?
20 sacks and try and keep all my hundreds
Imma buy ‘em all
And put ‘em up while it’s flooded
When it’s dry, I’m the man again
Pop an Ativan
Hit the mall, see my line on a mannequin
Lost a pack again, now I’m panicking
Why this happening? It’s hard to
Get the package in
Trafficking, makes me never want to rap again
You won’t hear this on the radio
During traffic jam
They won’t play this on the radio (naw)
All I talk about is yayo (yeah)
20 grams on my scale (yeah)
A hundred piece in the mail yo
Radio, radio, radio yayo, yayo, yayo
Scale, scale, scale
Mail yo, mail yo, mail yo