Philthy Rich, G.T. - 7 Mile x Seminary lyrics
[Philthy Rich, G.T. - 7 Mile x Seminary lyrics]
Ayy ayy we rep for real (O oh)
In the trap house right now
I don't rap the peel
Unc' got a big ass crib, he like Uncle Phil
Man that's like two hundred and fifty racks
When it's me and Phil (What up, Phil?)
Left wrist, full of curry, man
That's Plain Jane (Dirty rich)
All my niggas got a Cuban stick
We on the same thing (For real)
Bitch keep fucking with the help
Fuck 'em with the (Ehh, we cappin')
Mad 'cause I done cut her off 'cause
We ain't on the same page (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Niggas playing
They get hit up with the same K
(Bah, bah, bah) shooter off the Addy, man
He been up for like eight days
I just say whatever to the bitch
She think I'm runnin' game
Hit the time, one day
I came out with a hundred K
Large seven mile, off a seminary
It's just me and beer
Next time you sneak diss me
It's from the cemeter' four FOD chains on
Playin' with this bad bitch pussy
With my ring on
Every time you see mom, dude
She got designer on
Boy yo' mama shoulda swallowed you
Or kept the condom on
Plus I put her in that big house
Got her feet up
Gucci g'd up, Chanel bags, throwin' C's up
My baby mamas ain't no prostitutes
Both them bitches square
But if I had a baby by my hoe, nigga
Who would care?
She done gave a nigga ten years
That's ten mill'
Boy your nigga got ten years
But he a snitch still
It's like we still some lil' kids still
We got big wheels (Skrt, skrt)
Drum, when you load it
Gotta spin it like a windmill (Grr)
Make it play
I ain't got no service 'cause
We in the hills
Kick the bitch out after I fuck her
We ain't finna chill
(Ah)
Me and up in Club True, got them thugs too
Got them guns too, and a D, I got luck, true
Told the bitch she better turn around
She wish she turnin' down
I be with the turn around niggas
Who ain't gon' turn it down
In the trap house right now
I don't rap the peel
Unc' got a big ass crib, he like Uncle Phil
Man that's like two hundred and fifty racks
When it's me and Phil (What up, Phil?)
Left wrist, full of curry, man
That's Plain Jane (Dirty rich)
All my niggas got a Cuban stick
We on the same thing (For real)
Bitch keep fucking with the help
Fuck 'em with the (Ehh, we cappin')
Mad 'cause I done cut her off 'cause
We ain't on the same page (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Niggas playing
They get hit up with the same K
(Bah, bah, bah) shooter off the Addy, man
He been up for like eight days
I just say whatever to the bitch
She think I'm runnin' game
Hit the time, one day
I came out with a hundred K
Large seven mile, off a seminary
It's just me and beer
Next time you sneak diss me
It's from the cemeter' four FOD chains on
Playin' with this bad bitch pussy
With my ring on
Every time you see mom, dude
She got designer on
Boy yo' mama shoulda swallowed you
Or kept the condom on
Plus I put her in that big house
Got her feet up
Gucci g'd up, Chanel bags, throwin' C's up
My baby mamas ain't no prostitutes
Both them bitches square
But if I had a baby by my hoe, nigga
Who would care?
She done gave a nigga ten years
That's ten mill'
Boy your nigga got ten years
But he a snitch still
It's like we still some lil' kids still
We got big wheels (Skrt, skrt)
Drum, when you load it
Gotta spin it like a windmill (Grr)
Make it play
I ain't got no service 'cause
We in the hills
Kick the bitch out after I fuck her
We ain't finna chill
(Ah)
Me and up in Club True, got them thugs too
Got them guns too, and a D, I got luck, true
Told the bitch she better turn around
She wish she turnin' down
I be with the turn around niggas
Who ain't gon' turn it down