Tom MacDonald, Stevie Ross, Brevner - 2 Litre lyrics

Thomas MacDonald [Vancouver, Canada - L.A. U.S.]

[Tom MacDonald, Stevie Ross, Brevner - 2 Litre lyrics]

Ferragamo suit tailored up to the nine
Stitched in periwinkle blue and them
Drawers are Calvin Klein
Got that undercut with that top
Knot, lookin’ top notch
I’m stylin’ Gold chain colored like a
China man and that’s racial profiling
Half black, half chat, teriyaki, no chicken
Soon to run the fucking city
Like I’m Juliani, listen, and you bitches
Master splinter, backed inside
The subway system
But I’m something like Shredder
Never underground livin’
‘Stead of spikes on my shoulders
I got spikes on my kittens
That leopard hair
Louis Viutton limited edition
I’m a master of creations
You just mastered emulation
A trend chasing copycat
Who mastered imitation
I’m a self made superstar
Started in the basement with intent
Carry chain, but that shit was never played
And see, your style is like polo hoe
I ain’t ever played it
Made it to the fucking mages with
A camera and some patience b-Sharp

We don’t need no reason why
We been so turnt up
We don’t need no people comin’
‘round to want us
If we really wanna buy it we’ll
Put that on the card
Got a limo outside of the club, yeah
We don’t need no reason why
We been so turnt up
And we don’t talk about our feelings
When we smokin’ the blunt And
If we really tryna sleep then we’ll
Just sip out the cup
The double cup, the triple cup, the 2 liter
Turn down for what turn down for what

Gone on the days that I’m datin’
I never thought I would escape it
But my heart has been on a vacation
It’s a long way from the places
That it used to be alright
Still going out like every damn night
Gettin’ all left but it still ain’t right
Gettin’ money from a couple different
Things I don’t like
My hair long and my teeth gold and
My girl has been so patient
That I feel like I should tell
Her that I love her, thanks for waiting
But I can’t afford the long distance and
Them California girls miss me and the
Vancouver girls pissed off that we fuck but
They never get to kiss me
I been the realest since I got a
Visa and left y‘all at home
Now I’m speakin’
Italian and smokin’ on one with a mouth full
Of gold getting faded on Nostrum, Zuro
And Peroni on tour in Rome
Who else make a beat
Then record and produce a whole
Song on their own?
I don’t care if they have no love me
I got no love for them
Fuck all that boombap and underground
These rappers all tryna be real
But have nothing real to
Talk about These rappers
Tryna get deals still but this isn’t an
Auction house, B-Sharp is the team
Fuck everybody else

We don’t need no reason why
We been so turnt up
We don’t need no people comin’
‘round to want us
If we really wanna buy it we’ll
Put that on the card
Got a limo outside of the club, yeah
We don’t need no reason why
We been so turnt up
And we don’t talk about our feelings
When we smokin’ the blunt And
If we really tryna sleep then we’ll
Just sip out the cup
The double cup, the triple cup, the 2 liter
Turn down for what turn down for what

The anxiety got me feeling like
I need to move Xans still a dope dealer
Coke fill up bloody noses
Man, all the hoes in the club
Bottle service waiting for us
Vodka with Agent, chains, but
I don’t wanna drive
Still no license but still I’m surviving
Crazy like ivy, just like IB, vibing
So bitch don’t kill it
Too many girls telli at the party
Know they feel it turn up then turn out
Pop a pill if you burn out

Someone tell my girl that I ain't comin' home
She can never see me like this
I have no reason to believe but the
Reasons why we're celebrating
On every weekend i'm like "fuckin go"
I just got this outfit and
I'm gonna live forever
All least that's how I feel, I'm 25 years old
Like turn down for what turn down for what
Turn down for what turn down for what
Turn down for what turn down for what
Turn down for what
Turn down for what (turn down for what)

We don’t need no reason why
We been so turnt up
We don’t need no people comin’
‘round to want us
If we really wanna buy it we’ll
Put that on the card
Got a limo outside of the club, yeah
We don’t need no reason why
We been so turnt up
And we don’t talk about our feelings
When we smokin’ the blunt And
If we really tryna sleep then we’ll
Just sip out the cup
The double cup, the triple cup, the 2 liter
Turn down for what turn down for what

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