Larry June - Numbers Don't Lie lyrics
Larry June [Larry Eugene Hendricks] San Francisco, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Larry June - Numbers Don't Lie lyrics]
Aye baby, hand me some green tea?
Check, good job you're doing good, bitch
Mmm, scrumptious! Check, numbers
Aye aye aye
Bruce Wayne coupe, if I need we can get away
Fake niggas hate it when I rap
They feel some type of way
"June ain't really 'bout that life" that's
What they like to say
"He had that song Glock 40 but that
Was way back in the day"
Instead of pillow talking to the bitch
You should find a way to make it off your
Mama couch and go and get some real K
You stuck in a record deal
I'm working on my seventh tape
And I own my masters lil' nigga
Better get it straight
Merchandise crackin' off the dribble
Had to make it shake
Niggas sell they soul for 100K
To me that's crazy
Then drop 50 on a chain, that's a damn shame
I see you got the Jays
But your son ain't ate in days
Soft ass nigga
Got the bitch on a fuckin' leash
Me, I'm lookin' at the 2020
While I smoke keesh touch down in ATL
Lookin' for a Georgia peach
Taking pictures of my 'Vette but really
I ain't drove in weeks
I don't got a million dollars yet
But give me two weeks
OT, two free, just me, nigga yee
Dre touched down
Now I'm looking at some real estate
Gotta put this money somewhere
Besides the fuckin' bank
Everything got a price tag
How much you tryna pay?
If you think you know everything
How you gon' elevate?
Bucket hat, dark shades
Seven dollar lemonade make no excuses
Go hard until your money straight
Almost bought a vintage 911
Just the other day
Pap' pulled up, white fox, he was tryna race
(numbers) should I keep going to be
Stoppin' but it's goin' crazy
They like "goddamn nigga
Didn't you just drop a tape?"
I ain't go platinum just yet but I got faith
Just a white tee and a chain but I got taste
They like "damn June
Didn't them Nikes drop in '88?"
(Aye aye aye, aye aye aye)
Check, good job you're doing good, bitch
Mmm, scrumptious! Check, numbers
Aye aye aye
Bruce Wayne coupe, if I need we can get away
Fake niggas hate it when I rap
They feel some type of way
"June ain't really 'bout that life" that's
What they like to say
"He had that song Glock 40 but that
Was way back in the day"
Instead of pillow talking to the bitch
You should find a way to make it off your
Mama couch and go and get some real K
You stuck in a record deal
I'm working on my seventh tape
And I own my masters lil' nigga
Better get it straight
Merchandise crackin' off the dribble
Had to make it shake
Niggas sell they soul for 100K
To me that's crazy
Then drop 50 on a chain, that's a damn shame
I see you got the Jays
But your son ain't ate in days
Soft ass nigga
Got the bitch on a fuckin' leash
Me, I'm lookin' at the 2020
While I smoke keesh touch down in ATL
Lookin' for a Georgia peach
Taking pictures of my 'Vette but really
I ain't drove in weeks
I don't got a million dollars yet
But give me two weeks
OT, two free, just me, nigga yee
Dre touched down
Now I'm looking at some real estate
Gotta put this money somewhere
Besides the fuckin' bank
Everything got a price tag
How much you tryna pay?
If you think you know everything
How you gon' elevate?
Bucket hat, dark shades
Seven dollar lemonade make no excuses
Go hard until your money straight
Almost bought a vintage 911
Just the other day
Pap' pulled up, white fox, he was tryna race
(numbers) should I keep going to be
Stoppin' but it's goin' crazy
They like "goddamn nigga
Didn't you just drop a tape?"
I ain't go platinum just yet but I got faith
Just a white tee and a chain but I got taste
They like "damn June
Didn't them Nikes drop in '88?"
(Aye aye aye, aye aye aye)