HS87, Kent M$ney, Audio Push, Hit-Boy - What A Feeling lyrics

[HS87, Kent M$ney, Audio Push, Hit-Boy - What A Feeling lyrics]

This that pimp shit
This shit feel like some old
Late ‘90s type shit
The shit I grew up on, but I did the beat
Say hello to the young god of the game
Popular name
HB, all I drop is the flame, nah
Nigga we are not in the same boat
Car, plane, bus or a stage coach
Just a bunch of young niggas from the ghetto
Now the way they court
Us is resemblin Carmelo
Ballin, Don Perrion, keep chicks crawling
Bossing i ain’t talking dental but nigga
We stay flossing
Hands down, so the crowd keep their hands up
I live in a high rise
That’s why she keep her ass up
I’m the ghetto black trump, spread the word
Spread the word me and my niggas are on
Now, roger that, Federer, never scurred

What a feeling, ain’t worry about much
Just countin these millions
What a feeling, gettin top in the Benz
But it ain’t no ceiling what a feeling
Ain’t worry about them niggas
That’s over there grillin'
Cause ya'll don’t really really want much
Y'all don’t really really want much

This for the niggas that can't
Never had a rank
But be going hard in the paint
Bout it bout it like a no limit tank
That’s a little dame
Tell her to come up over here and plank
What a fresh nigga too
Addictive like mephamphetamine
These other rappers I’m better than
We’re going somewhere in my leather jeans
Coming up mad I never had a dad
Ridin' with my momma with no
AC in that Cadillac
Went from trying get outfit's
To youngins to in them house lit's
Now the money coming like a baseball pitch
Fast nigga, we all rich

Hundred K on the block
Money all the time with a pay on the watch
22s caught an eye
But the funny thing is that
I came and I stock got a raise but I drop
Young nigga move around like I’m posed to
Fuck love, love tell me what that throw
Do, let a nigga coach you
Then I can't approach you
My niggas knock niggas out Tyson
Your niggas, my niggas let bygones
My niggas make your niggas buy guns
From the pump if a nigga speak with dry lungs
My taste high, this weed loud, I’m ignant
I’m getting it
Ringtones can’t imagine this picnic
Nigga keep dreaming I'm feeding that figment

I ain’t even had to write this
Grill on while I rap getting like this
You hear them niggas left
Click then right click runnin' around
Always talking about my clique
See, these niggas won’t hold me back
Cause these niggas won’t hold these racks
Tell them broke boy stop it
Cause they ain’t gonna stop my profit, no
Hit got M's, I got Gs, you will take L's
Cause you are not these
Young G's killing everything, Nazis
Last letter killed everything not Z
That mean A through Y is gonna die
While I count up this bread
And ride out with Price
On the passenger side while
Your girl sending Jpegs
You niggas can’t defeat me like fake legs

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