CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles : Not Average

[Intro: Big Moochie Grape & Jay Fizzle]
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah
Big Tello (JohnnyTurnItUp)
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah
Ching, ching
Uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, gigantic
Ayy, free Muwop 'til that shit spelled backwards
Uh, uh, uh, gigantic
Gang shit, no lame shit
Uh, uh, uh, Big Moochie

[Verse 1: Big Moochie Grape]
Yeah, always been really frontline in the field, that's why these niggas follow me (These niggas follow me)
Yeah, niggas be talkin' like bitches, but that shit, it really don't bother me (It really don't bother me)
Yeah, got money stuffed all in my pockets, lookin' like I hit the lottery (Racks, racks, yeah)
Uh, young nigga goin' to the top, goin' hard 'cause that's where I gotta be (That's where I gotta be)
All of my ex-bitches tryna come back, tryna give me apologies (Ha)
Sit in the trap and I break down the pack and I whip it like pottery (Whip)
5.56 hit his artery
East Haiti baby, I'm stuck in the village, I run the whole colony
Whatever I do, they gon' copy me
Niggas lil' boys, they be mockin' me
But they know it ain't no stoppin' me
Fuckin' on bad bitches by the three
Pop me a 20, go Hercules
Bitch, we c't go public, can't go on Say Cheese
Fucked her onne time no the ebitch tryna date me
Seen all this ice, now the bitch tryna rape me (Damn)
Yeah, we can fuck, but I can't buy you Celine
Say she a maid, so I made that ho daydream (Ha)
Tryna get to me, she say that she crave me
Ain't lovin' no ho, yeah, you bitches get traded
Broke on the bitch, sold the pussy at Days Inn (Yeah)
Askin' me how my life been, it's amazin' (It's amazin')
Cashin' big checks and big blunts I be blazin'
Thick, pretty bitch and she Black and she Asian
Had some dark clouds, but I passed all them phases
Love all my niggas, been stuck since the playpen
Puttin' that foul on them niggas since way then
I'm Illuminati business, all that my niggas do is sin (On God)

[Chorus: Big Moochie Grape]
I got the game in a chokehold, foot on they neck though, got all my watches, tryna see what I'm finna do
Young nigga fresh as fuck, VVV hittin' up, designer-ed down, but I Jordan-ed my tennis shoes
Baguette my Cartier, bitches, they stop and stare, walkin' up on me like, "You ain't the average dude"
My lil' homie with me, he got him a fifty, you thinkin' shit sweet, frrt, frrt, he gon' murder you

[Verse 2: Jay Fizzle]
Got a safe full of paper growin' mildew
Yeah, I'm ballin' like a basketball player, but I ain't hoopin', only straps a nigga shoot
Tell the crowd it's free Moochie (Free the gang)
I don't fuck with rappers, niggas cap, they coochie
Neck and wrist froze, bitch, I'm colder than an ice cooler
Heard buddy hatin' on me, but his bitch been groupie
Tell him better go and check his bitch 'cause he callin' me, I'm shootin'
Swear I ain't boxin' no nigga, try to come fight with them bullets
Thirty round on me, now they wanna be the gang, gotta say so
Every nigga 'round me on go like a 304
Bet the opps scared, niggas really don't want smoke
Tryna catch 'em with the chopper, knock 'em down like dominos
Search my fuckin' friend, swear these niggas Pablo
Like clothes at the mall, place a tag on your toe
Wanna keep your bitch, put a tag on that ho
Homie deep in his feelings, I'm deep in his big girl's throat
Heard they gon' kill me, go tell 'em bring it on
Why the fuck I ain't dead yet? Tell them niggas stop prolongin'
Tryna walk down, fah, fah, FaceTime his ass, no iPhone
Chop hold a hundred, hit your block, shoot for so long
Swear I keep it on me, never catch me slippin'
Yeah, I'm Grape Street for real, ho, don't play with my Crippin'
Swear I'm tied down for real, always standin' on business
Think I'm takin' Perc' 30s 'cause my trigger finger stay itchin'
Yeah, I swear a nigga still couldn't see me, had 20/20 vision
Got a pocket full of cheese like a Philadelphia Philly (Racks)
Tote a chopper on me, same size as a midget
Can't stand the heat, tell him stay his ass out the kitchen (Pussy)
Got the F&N on me, run up, do him like a pimple (F&N)
Blue tips put a hole in his face, give him dimples (Fah, fah)
Spent 30k to the golds, I told 'em, "Turn my teeth popsicle"
Got your bitch wanna fuck 'cause I'm somethin' that you not, nigga

[Chorus: Big Moochie Grape]
I got the game in a chokehold, foot on they neck though, got all my watches, tryna see what I'm finna do
Young nigga fresh as fuck, VVV hittin' up, designer-ed down, but I Jordan-ed my tennis shoes
Baguette my Cartier, bitches, they stop and stare, walkin' up on me like, "You ain't the average dude"
My lil' homie with me, he got him a fifty, you thinkin' shit sweet, frrt, frrt, he gon' murder you

[Verse 3: Big Moochie Grape]
Nigga, you a bitch and no one ever hear of you
Get a pallbearer, we gon' make 'em put dirt on you
Your family gon' hurt when they go get a shirt of you
Put this Drac' to your face and we make you play peekaboo (Yes, sir)
I been with the shit the whole time, yeah, you niggas knew (Yes, sir)
And them dick suckers with you, just know they gon' get it too (Yes, sir)
Stackin' my money up 'til it grow mildew (Yeah, yeah)
Trap, rob, and murder, the shit that I been through (Yes, sir)

[Outro: Jay Fizzle]
Got a safe full of paper growin' mildew
Yeah, I'm ballin' like a basketball player, but I ain't hoopin', only straps a nigga shoot
Tell the crowd it's free Moochie
I don't fuck with rappers, niggas cap, they coochie