Pill - Everybody Lookin lyrics

[Intro]

Everybody’s lookin’, if you’re jealous turn around

The AMG kit keeps us closer to the ground

We’re gettin’ good grip from the 50 series tires

The Alpine’s bumpin’, but I need the volume higher

[Hook]

Everybody’s lookin’, if you’re jealous turn around

The AMG kit keeps us closer to the ground

We’re gettin’ good grip from the 50 series tires

The Alpine’s bumpin’, but I need the volume higher

Everybody’s looking, if you’re jealous turn around

The AMG kit keeps us closer to the ground

We’re gettin’ good grip from the 50 series tires

The Alpine’s bumpin’, but I need the volume higher


[Verse 1]

Aye! P-I double L, fresher than a ma’fucka

Bad bitches, no dresses in this ma’fucka

Blowin’ loud, no stressing’ in this ma’fucka

Big banks, no pressure on this ma’fucka

Professional when I do this shit

Always dressed in the newest shit

Gucci, Prada and Louis shit

Leave the pussy all ruined, bitch

Uh – I’m goin’ HAM in this motherfucker

Peanut butter, I’mma jam in this motherfucker

The bass steady kickin’ and the Armor All shines

Pretty little chicken and I bet she is a dime

Feel like I’m goin’ fishin’, your bitch is on my line

Like a death row inmate’s teeth, I’mma grind

Like a scale I’mma balance out

This money shit and this candid drop

Guaranteed when them bands come out

Them big booty hoes, their panties’ll drop

Okay then… I’m throwin’ bands in this motherfucker

So many hoes I need a van in this motherfucker


[Hook]


[Verse 2]

Aye! This that straight drop shit, shorty

Bad bitches pullin’ up in a 6-40

One rollin’ up the weed, one bitch snortin’

Master P, I double L, yeah, I been ’bout it

Experience what made me, 80 feet they raised me

Fourth quarter got paid, G

From the one to the three with your lady

Uh – I’m Mike Vickin’ in this motherfucker

Dog-ass nigga trickin’ in this motherfucker

Aye! It ain’t trickin’ if you got it, though

A lot of flow, it’s like cocaina when I record

A lot of dope, I done seen them servin’ beside the road

‘Cause I am clean, they hatin’, out of sight, they explode

Bitch! Take the roof up off this ma’fucka

I’m turnin’ up, I’m the truth up in this ma’fucka

Got some niggas that’ll shoot up in this ma’fucka

We ’bout this paper, gettin’ loot all in this ma’fucka


[Hook]


[Verse 3]

Volume loud, blowin’ loud with a six pack

Got the glock tucked if they want the chit-chat

Got a chopper on my side for the get-back

Guaranteed they think they clean, but their kit wack

Six pack on the stomach, make ‘em vomit

Blood on his teeth whenever a nigga dumpin’

Tried to warn you ’bout this weather

Fuck around and get pneumonia

When the bullets start to rain

This ain’t Southern California, bitch

Stay strapped like a velcro tennis shoe

Got a bad bitch that will replenish you

Mortal Kombat, nigga, I’ll finish you

Ignorin’ messages askin’ me what I’m finna do

Been a fool with it, been a motherfuckin’ monster

Leave a nigga’s ass stinkin’ in his trash by the dumpster

Got some little bitty niggas livin’ fast that’ll dump ya

It’s the #1 rule, get cash as a youngster


[Hook]






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