Lyrics Migos – Emmit Smith
Text:
Intro: Quavo
50, 40, there he go
30, 20, there he go
Touchdown! Go! Go! Go!
Hook: Quavo
Running with that sack, Emmitt Smith
Deuce-deuce pocket rocket, Emmitt Smith
I just touched down on a pussy nigga
I just touched down on a pussy nigga
Emmitt Smith, Emmitt, Emmitt Smith, Emmitt, Emmitt Smith
Emmitt Smith, Emmitt, Emmitt Smith, Emmitt, Emmitt Smith
I just touched down on a pussy nigga
I just touched down on a pussy nigga
Verse 1: Quavo
Finessing the plug
I run with that sack and I make a touchdown
Ran on the money, hall of fame of finesse, ain’t no Jim Brown
I know my momma she proud of me
Young rich nigga, we the new trend now
Came a long way, from kicking the doors
Now people they pay me in Paypal
Want me to fuck with you cause I came up nigga?
My-my-my momma she told me she love me
Go get money nigga!
I came a long way, from chopping the trenches to rocking the mic and I did it, we did it
My pockets on Pinky and I’m taking a pic
From flying from city to city
Hook
Verse 2: Takeoff
Run with the sack like I’m Emmitt and I keep the aiming for niggas who envy
With double F’s on me, no Fendi
My niggas ain’t feelin’ their bitches
They put on the ski mask, they leavin’ no witness
My wrist just be spinnin’ I’m doin’ my fitness
Hall of fame trappin’, young niggas I’m feedin’
My wrist game real sick so I need soup by Mrs Campbells
I’m baking a dozen on camera
Young niggas running with the work, Earl Campbell
Trapping in bandos and shelters
Young Takeoff and I’m finna buy Delta
Can fit 2 plus 2 in my Phantom
Your pockets look like they got cancer
I just bought a brand new Mercedes from Haiti and set it on some Walter Paytons
My ‘migo he asked me to front him a kilo
I threw it to him like I’m Peyton
I told momma we gon’ make it
Now I’m on trips to make
?
I set the fire with this pocket, rocket
Hook
Verse 3: Offset
Emmitt, Emmitt, touchdown
That’s a hundred rounds, nigga laid down
None of my plugs from America, Africa, Australia
Chopper gon’ bite like Bull Terriers, none of my niggas they scared of yah!
Hang a fuck nigga like ornament nigga, broke ass nigga unfortunate nigga
I keep the babies like orphanage babies! Go to the moon like astrologist
We not acceptin’ apologies, sellin’ the dope to economist
Young rich nigga ridin’ ’round in the Bentley
Throwin’ money on the ceiling momma told me I’m ignant!
Two steps ahead of ya, never been regular
Hit a nigga with the antedote and we burry him
Hop in the Jag’, I’m droppin’ the top back
Smoking on gas like a nigga got cataracts
Duck ass nigga I’m calling you Aflac
Alley oop dunking them bricks it’s a Shaq attack
Only one bird can bring the whole corner back
Like Offset been throwin’ like a quarterback
Hook
Album
Migos – No Label 2
