Quilly Millz

Quilly Millz - Kerosene lyrics

rate me

Quilly Millz, nigga

I'm rapped out, yeah!

Quilly Millz in the building with the real niggas

Fake niggas take heave to a real nigga

Hottest in the streets, that's without a deal, nigga

When you get a deal? How they gonna deal with ya?

Bitches never said yes to me, now they can't say no to me

She jumping on the dick, she ride that stick,

that bad bitch controlling me.

Know I got that Buddha

Horseshoes all over me

I'm strapped plus my shooters here

You bitch niggas ain't folding me

Pop guns like New Years

Pop bottles like New Years

And I got that Hermes you got to wait like two years

I'm so wavy that the malls call me

I got the type of dick that make the broads stalk me

Walk in your party, bottle service like it's our party

Shipping pepper on the denim got 'em all salty

Five pen on hat, fresh pair of Charles Barkley

These niggas cops check for their walkies talkies

Whole nother bankroll, nigga, different day

I'm trying to kick her out

You're trying to get that bitch to stay

Smoke great, get a milkshake from chick-fil-a

Everyday these bitches compliment a nigga lay

It aint what a nigga say is what a nigga show

I ain't gotta say I'm real, niggas know!

Bitches feel a nigga ghost I ain't even die

I'm still dripping for the mall, I ain't even dry

Me and Gillie forty forty pop a spade hoe

Getting major figures, killing with my spade flow

And don't be stepping on my J's, hoe

And don't be smoking all my haze, hoe

And you can fuck it with these lames, hoe

You could have had Michael Jackson, you Jermaine though

I'm really live,and you just a lie hundred dollars for my plate,

and that's just the size

Niggas see me in the hood and they look surprised

The party started, bitch I just arrived

Fish-bone, no tit, bitch!

My jean jacket cost Your rent bitch!

You should be cutting me a check, I'm the shit, bitch

I ain't paying for no pussy, I'm a pimp, bitch!

Every night I'm with some burger steak and shrimp shit Benni Hanna Collasal crab with butter dip

You're acting Hollywood, you are some other shit

Every seven days a nigga in another whip

Every forty-eight, we was bagging off a brick

And every twenty-four, I'll be with another bitch!

Thanks to Key Murk for correcting these lyrics

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Anonymous
Monday 11th of March 2013 09:58
Have The Mall Call Me