Future - HiTek Tek lyrics

Future

Future [Nayvadius DeMun Wilburn] Atlanta, Georgia, U.S. 🇺🇸

[Future - HiTek Tek lyrics]

(ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob) freeband Gang

Yeah yeah hi Tech Tech, yeah yeah
Big ol' jet, yeah yeah
Big ass TEC, yeah yeah
Big ass bitch,  yeah yeah
Thick lil' shit, yeah yeah
I'm gettin' my money, yeah yeah
I'm gettin' this rich, yeah yeah
Straight out the crib, yep
I'm straight out the trench, yep
I'm straight out the trench, yep
I'm straight out the trench, yep
The trench of the trench (Woo)
The drank on the floor i started, I pour
But not no more

Hop in that go-go-go-Ghost, I'm on go mode
We drivin' every single car you
Want, send in the dope, ho
She like to ride when I go jugg


I got a dope ho
Make me sing to your bitch, K-Ci, JoJo
Every day, every night, go to the moon
All of my niggas geeked up in the room
Paradise, shoot my one and two
Astronaut takin' off, I got the proof (yeah)
Perky medics (yeah, yeah)
Head from Becky (yeah, yeah)
Gold baguetties (yeah, yeah)
Gold presi' (yeah, yeah)
I be down in Houston like Kareem
I'm a rocket
Drank the drank and popped a couple beans
Now I'm cocky
Came through the game and took that
Shit like I was robbin'
Chain rings, earrings
Please proceed with cautions
Courtside, I'm sittin' at the game with
A Glock in my pocket
All my niggas bang, brr
Clear out the cartridge
Go inside of Chanel store and start poppin'
I told you
I'm rollin' off a bean like Scotty

Yeah yeah hi Tech Tech, yeah yeah
Big ol' jet, yeah yeah (Big ol' jet)
Big ass TEC, yeah yeah
Big ass bitch, yeah yeah (Big ass bitch)
Thick lil' shit, yeah yeah
I'm gettin' my money, yeah yeah
(Hi Tech Tech)
I'm gettin' this rich, yeah yeah
I'm straight out the crib
I'm straight out the trench, yup
I'm straight out the trench
I'm straight out the trench, yup
The trench of the trench (Woo)
The drank on the floor i started, I pour
But not no more

Yeah, I fill up a cup with that red
And I know it might kill me (Hi Tech Tech)
I throwed on the animal print
And it got me bougie
I sold my coke in the cold
The sweater was Coogi
I can't forget my bros, we make a zoovie
I am not supposed to
Be fuckin' these bitches
They jockin' my dick on the low
I got her on lean
(Woo) , I got her on beans (Woo)
She down to my team, man
I'm cuttin' up a ring, man
Fully loaded magazines
Shout out to the gangland
And I can't even sleep
I been already geeked for seven days
Put the wood on that Banshee
I position her more than seven ways
I got black cards and Visas, I'm gettin' paid
I'm sittin' in the dark, ain't got shades
Take all the tablets and go to space

Hi Tech Tech, yeah yeah
Hi Tech Tech, yeah yeah
Big ol' jet, yeah yeah (Big ol' jet)
Big ass TEC, yeah yeah
Big ass bitch, yeah yeah (Big ol' bitch)
Thick lil' shit, yeah yeah
I'm gettin' my money, yeah yeah
(Hi Tech Tech)
I'm gettin' this rich, yeah yeah
Hi Tech Tech
Hi Tech Tech, Hi Tech Tech (yeah yeah)
Hi Tech Tech (yeah yeah)

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