Lyrics Key Glock – Orville Redenbacher
Text:
Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up
Young nigga poppin, Orville Redenbacher
Ice all on my collar, yeah, my money taller
Ain’t no more Impalas, foreign push to start up
Uh, Big Glock, Don’t know what you thought, hoe
So much guap, it hurts when I walk, uh
Let my money talk, designer to the socks
Bitch, I love to floss, look what I just bought, uh
Duh, yeah
Balling just because
Duh, every chain at least a dub
Yeah, walking in, I make it flood
Duh, in the club I got my slugs
With some Crips and Bloods, duh
Yeah they show me love
Nigga, you’s a scrub, uh, yeah you just a dub
Never gave a fuck, yeah, boy you know what’s up
Pulling in the foreign, uh, duh, you know that’s us, uh
Y-yeah that’s me
Six chains, Mr. T, uh, yeah
You know me
Smoking on the Russian Creams
«There go Glock», she’s like «man of my dreams», yeah
No I’m not, bitch, you ain’t my cup of tea
No, I can’t fuck with thot hoes
I cannot go
Bitches jaw drop, hoe
I got them knots, hoe
Riding Forgiatos, and dodging pot holes
Cuban links white gold, I-I’m a light show
Tennis chain on froze, y-yellow and rose
Choppers like the gun show, they legal and stole
Hotter than the damn stove, who left the eye on?
Diamonds dancing, pop rocks, playing hop-scotch
Jumping out my wrist watch, guess how much this cost
Could’ve bought a big house, but iced my wrist out
Never been a sit down, you’re just a sit down
Why these niggas playing, yeah, they know that I’m spraying
Bitch, I’ve been the man since I had diapers in my pants
I can’t make my mind up on a Wraith or a McLaren
Bragging, I’m just saying, bitch, I’m playing with these bands
Young nigga poppin, Orville Redenbacher
Ice all on my collar, yeah, my money taller
Ain’t no more Impalas, foreign push to start up
Walk up in the party, pistol in my garment
Uh, Big Glock, Don’t know what you thought, hoe
So much guap, it hurts when I walk
Let my money talk, designer to the socks
Bitch, I love to floss, look what I just bought, uh