1. |
F.Y.P.M. [Prod By ILLIE]
05:16
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"F.Y.P.M."
Verse 1:
Fuck you pay me, fuck what they think on the label
Nigga we ain't signed no paper, make no paper yet need the money, shut the fuck up/ nigga you got me fucked up, middle man told me wait a minute, be gentle man/ label head went ahead and then boxed us, cable man, tryna fock us under the table and I ain't see no paper yet/
Nigga fuck you, I need a check on my mama/ whole lotta commas, gold collar work/ promise, no drama, Keanu/ making cheese, Damianos/
90s baby, mama made me fresh up out the CAHSEE/ bops and bottles celebration/ I'm the shit, constipation/ain't coming out with shit , we just droppin legend, heaven/ Jimi Hendrix, chocolate Elvis, Mama help us, pray for Ricky/ he on a case of swisher sweets, drinks, and naked bitches/ think it's safe to say he sinnin/ label bought a wrist that could feed the children/ wear a chain to his ding a Lang, made him swear to make it rain/ gold fangs in his grill day to day/
Money like Anna Mae, what's love got to do with that Benjamin face, po me up a drank, bottles by the case, saki for my Japanese hottie, anime/
We gone be rich on my Mama, eye on the dollar/ it ain't no Ralph though on my collar/ God I need a million dollars
HOOK
I see you niggas never fuck with us
The problem with you niggas
You niggas never belong
(Repeat 2x)
VERSE 2
All the hos like a pageant/
Pray to me like I'm Sabbath/
Black and white, classic
Po'd up, we fucked up, Absynth/
Holdin onto my glasses/
These hos believe like magic/
Swear I get it from pappy/
Like miller high life, my life Muhfucka/
Nigga been a monster, caged and I rage in the middle of the function/on stage, hella Jumpin, fists pumped for the kids in the front, middle fingers to the ones not Turnt the fuck up/
Band granted krunk, bass in the trunk, move keys like a trap God, rap Gawd, slap artists wan fuck with us, fuck ya'll, buck buck buck buck buck/
ain't shit to say to y'all niggas,
Fuck around and pour the malt liquor/
I been dead, zombie loc/
They don't fuck with us, adios/
Pendleton draped in hater blood
Rappers act like they don't know a nigga/ jealous older niggas don't know a nigga in the band, come on man, nigga you seen us ragin/
I been amazing, G's ventilation/ middle aging niggas wanna be mes, imitation/ SK the sacred, I see no limitation/ people see power in a poets communication/ loook, can't get me on a hook/ til all these Muhfucka wan book/ the black band, God gotta plan for us young niggas huh/
HOOK
I see you niggas never fuck with us
The problem with you niggas
You niggas never belong
(Repeat 2x)
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2. |
Lust [Prod By ILLIE]
04:11
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"Lust"
Verse 1:
Fuck you think you are? Fuck you think you are?
Hand on the money, eye on the money
I'm seeing through the dark, take you through the dark
In light of who I truly love, maybe you or the drugs
Then again, I'm not using right now, so it must be you that I fuck with
Oh you so soft when I touch it, you open and fuck with a G off top
Give me top off top
Love how you love me, you love how I fuck
Friend want some, baby don't be blush
Get lit, what I do, sip some mo, take a cup of this gin with a hint of this Indo
Roll down the window, I am in LIMBO, high as fuck
All in my info, drugs on the tongue of a boppin' ass bimbo
Ahhh, light a cigarette, roll up a cigarillo, high and her panties wet
She silky over sex, strip and drip on the pillow
I make her cum correct, she fuck around and crescendo
Tell me slow up the tempo, hit it good like I should
Make a nigga want it mo, make a nigga lust
Po me up
Chorus:
Baby po' up (po' up)
Show me somethin' (show me somethin')
Pop one for me
Babe come with me (come with me)
Baby po' up (po' up)
Show me something' (show me somethin')
Do some drugs with me
Babe cum for me
Alternative Hook:
Baby I know what you want (you want)
Girl I got what you need (you need)
Girl I got what you want (you want)
Do you see what I see
Us 3 Three III (repeat)
VERSE 2
You go, you go, you go, meet me in room
You know, you know, you know, you could get this D from me
Babe wanna let me in it, eyes on the way you with it
Drink in the cup I'm sipping, slow grind girl the way you stripping
Make a nigga wanna tip you shit
Bottle popping vodka, puffing that "lala", rolling, winding, eyeing you
Swallow them shots for Rick
Kinda talk slick, let a nigga slide them "vic's" to the side and bop that shit
Ohhh mami want me to choose, oooh lawdy no rules
Take them panties off in the pool, she tsunami wet
Chorus:
Baby po' up (po' up)
Show me somethin' (show me somethin')
Pop one for me
Babe come with me (come with me)
Baby po' up (po' up)
Show me something' (show me somethin')
Do some drugs with me
Babe cum for me
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3. |
Maybe [Prod By ILLIE]
04:56
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"Maybe"
Verse 1:
Drunk, since I'm drunk/
lot of energy in this room, bar like a saloon
Yeah yeah yeah, hit me with a vodka, blame it on the potion
Rollin weed in VIP, I creep, babe eyes so low, she sleep walking
Still trying to chill with the real, she bossy
What I wanna do when I leave here with you
Do drugs, sip something, let me slide on thru,baby
Body so honest, wanna lick you up and down darling
Would it be wrong to tell yo friend to come along, huh?
That's that pressure in this muthafucka
Let me make some drinks, I'm Dr. Jekyll in this muthafucka
I'ma show you how girl, you wild girls, come in my world
Tell me something baby, you willing to get a little crazy?
Chorus:
Blink, you could miss what you came to get
I'll tell you baby, I'm lit, huh
Aye, pour up another one
Baby maybe I'm drunk huh/
Baby maybe, I'm drunk huh
(repeat 8x)
Verse 2:
Oh, can't remember the last time I didn't pour up
Spilling, I'm sipping', I'm lifted, no, I don't go sober
(mumbling) I might smash her
She live in my lap
All the patron got her feeling on my "hmm"
Where you going with that? baby sit back
Grey goose chilling lets sip in the upper room
Polo, no fruit of the loom
Take her clothes off, smell perfume
Baby turnout to the max, she wanna have sex
Ohhh
Yeah aye baby hey won't you do this again
Got the bottles, you just bring one of your friends
Baby just do what you feel/
Chorus:
Blink, you could miss what you came to get
I'll tell you baby, I'm lit, huh
Aye, pour up another one
Baby maybe I'm drunk huh/
Baby maybe, I'm drunk huh
(repeat 8x)
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4. |
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"Can't Deal"
Verse 1:
Slip n slide, she wet
Beat the pussy up like chuck Norris
Nobody round when she go down
All she eat is meat that's tyrannosaurus
Rachets come party, gimme that rooster in my Rari
Hoes naked Molly water flexing
Drippin' wet, she sweat when she text a nigga
I don't answer, tossing bitches like a bouncer
Got money on my mind like these niggas owe me ransom
Fuck her so good, she throw a tantrum
Rest In Peace to her panties
Let a nigga dive in, Michael phelps on a ho
Violins playing, killed the pussy slow
Yeah dimes on my lap, could say they sittin' on money
Pray no more Washington's in my bank account, I'ma keep it one hundred
Real nigga
Red bone killer, murder niggas, heard bout that llama
AK, AR, Uzi, foolies, squirt at them coppers
Polo all on my collar, neighborhood just like Gaza
Fuck bitches on my tour bus
Horsepower in my Porsche
You fuck niggas, lame niggas, bang my gang in my grammar
I double L I E (ILLIE) black band with the city on the cap
Mutha fuck the police
Chorus:
I'ma get this money, can't deal with you fuck niggas
Niggas want the juice, can't deal with you fuck niggas
All I see is money, can't deal with you fuck niggas
Niggas tell the truth, cant deal, we don't fuck with cha
Verse 2:
I am the model man, I am the dollar man
I get the money like I won the lotto man
You can not see me, but I am not hollow man
I got the Juice, no, I am not Radames
$-K money, bitch Rick the Ruler
Boss shit and I live in the Hoovers
Rip to my grandma, born with looters
91' baby, not straight out the 80s
Turnt up hundred dollar bill in the club maxed "wavy"
Holly off a pill, navy seal wet, friend finna flex, hit her with a text
Bitch chilly chill, take a sippy sip
Gin and juice drinking, my hand on my weapon
Her eye on my 9, I'm 187 her
High eyes red alert, Dalai Lama
Mami so gone off the marijuana
Mami so throwed off the vodka bottle
Baby just pose, I'm a pop a model
Money so long can't count the commas
She gone eat this D, she Jeffrey Dahmer
Can't box me in, I'm Ali
She on my dick, girl, golly
She lick me like I'm a lolly, while I'm sipping on that Saki
That's my Asian persuasion
Praise to my patience (she wavy)
All of this money, my niggas 100
Fuckin the game, we keeping em cummin'
Keep a small circle, we good as a Funyun
My niggas a band, we rage at the function
All my niggas killers
We don't fuck with you fuck niggas
Chorus:
I'ma get this money, can't deal with you fuck niggas
Niggas want the juice, can't deal with you fuck niggas
All I see is money, can't deal with you fuck niggas
Niggas tell the truth, cant deal, we don't fuck with cha
(Repeat)
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ILLIE Los Angeles, California
ILLIE is a 4 member live hip hop band composed of bass, keys, drums & one rapper. They have developed a unique style of music by taking major elements of everyday hip-hop/rap music and manipulating the norm. Adding melodic phrases combined with the synergism of piano chords, and smooth baselines that span over genres from alternative to rock to EDM. ... more
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