DOM KENNEDY, Troy NōKA - Feelin’ It lyrics
[DOM KENNEDY, Troy NōKA - Feelin’ It lyrics]
Why you thinking half empty? I fill my cup
Yeah theses haters gon envy
Like Troy gon cut
Still got them big wheels, like toys R us
Pull up like the Flintstones
With the wood grain
Been having hoes on me since
Pinky and the brain shit
Swerve on these clowns like im bruce wayne
Shit
Bomb on theses niggas like Klu Klux Klan
Shit these rappers soft as my nubuck tims
Beats hot like the summer, vegas sunny days
I grip franklins
While yaw paper just run away
Maybe it's the vapors or that bitchass-ness
Heres a toast to my haters this shit classic
This is for my players, hustlers, dealers
Real bad bitches with they
Mind on they figures
If you feeling so fresh
Put ya hands in the sky
We gon shine like the fourth of july
Feeling so fly i can touch the sky
You know im feeling it
Players, hoes, money, gold
A 650 bemer tell me where you wanna go
We headed back to vegas
Never do much sleeping
She ain't got a man, never do much cheating
Champagne gang spend to much drinking
She wanna tongue kiss we
Don't do much speaking
French papers hella weed
If she not smoking tell her leave
Who that, who that telling me
She take cold showers to my last LP uh uh
Then she told me im her favorite rapper
And then she showed me im her favorite rapper
This is for my players, hustlers, dealers
Real bad bitches with they
Mind on they figures
If you feeling so fresh
Put ya hands in the sky
We gon shine like the fourth of july
Feeling so fly i can touch the sky
You know im feeling it
Yeah theses haters gon envy
Like Troy gon cut
Still got them big wheels, like toys R us
Pull up like the Flintstones
With the wood grain
Been having hoes on me since
Pinky and the brain shit
Swerve on these clowns like im bruce wayne
Shit
Bomb on theses niggas like Klu Klux Klan
Shit these rappers soft as my nubuck tims
Beats hot like the summer, vegas sunny days
I grip franklins
While yaw paper just run away
Maybe it's the vapors or that bitchass-ness
Heres a toast to my haters this shit classic
This is for my players, hustlers, dealers
Real bad bitches with they
Mind on they figures
If you feeling so fresh
Put ya hands in the sky
We gon shine like the fourth of july
Feeling so fly i can touch the sky
You know im feeling it
Players, hoes, money, gold
A 650 bemer tell me where you wanna go
We headed back to vegas
Never do much sleeping
She ain't got a man, never do much cheating
Champagne gang spend to much drinking
She wanna tongue kiss we
Don't do much speaking
French papers hella weed
If she not smoking tell her leave
Who that, who that telling me
She take cold showers to my last LP uh uh
Then she told me im her favorite rapper
And then she showed me im her favorite rapper
This is for my players, hustlers, dealers
Real bad bitches with they
Mind on they figures
If you feeling so fresh
Put ya hands in the sky
We gon shine like the fourth of july
Feeling so fly i can touch the sky
You know im feeling it