Horace Grant Lyrics – BlueBucksClan
Singer: BlueBucksClan
Title: Horace Grant
I feel like these n****s soft, n****s cupcakes (n****s soft)
Told her I don’t want no p#ss#, Let me f#ck face (I don’t want no p#ss#) Last night was Prada down, had a rough day (Prada down)
My feet will never ever feel how no chuck lace (never ever)
Big foreigns blocking all the neighbors front gate (big foreigns)
In the stu, I’m tryna see what b#tches up late (see who up)
On the phone with my jeweler, what’s the update (what’s the update) I can see from court side, these n****s pump faking
Wouldn’t believe what I paid for my watch (wouldn’t believe it)
Cant believe what I paid for this wop (can’t believe it)
Fifteen hundred dollars in this pot (in this soda)
Put your lips on this cup, you bet not (you bet not) Quiet b#tch locked me up, I was shocked (I was shocked)
Looked down at my pockets, they on ster#ids (they on ster#ids) Barrys Bonds me a n****, Uncle Elroy (Uncle Elroy)
Here go twenty five hundred, get your hair done (get yo hair done) b#tch I paid every bill, you can’t trip none (on my momma)
Im with eight b#tches out of town make the trip fun (eight b#tches) This my last cup, I can’t afford to spill none (I can’t spill)
Told the chef make my plate when the meal done (when it’s done)
Jeeezy put up in the lamb, you shoulda seen her (shoulda seen it) Hundreds in the glove compartment for no reason (for no reason) Need some undergarments, finna go to Neiman’s (yeah f#ck it)
A lot of great b#tches know about this p#n#s (on my momma)
My b#tch popped up on me, what you thinking (f#ck you doing)
I ain’t even writing sh#t, I’m just speaking (I ain’t writing)
I ain’t never wrote no sh#t down, I just wing it (I just wing it)
I can show you how to run these plays, I’m Sarkisian (I’m Sarkisian)
Rich b#tches with some fire head what I’m seeking (what I’m seeking) Seen your baby daddy, he still sliding in that Lincoln (n**** lame)
I just seen your b#tch slide in the little Honda (in that Honda)
All I want is face, told her I don’t got no condom (I don’t got no condom) Thirteen hundred dollar shirt, yeah no problem (thirteen hundred)
Big shoes on the bottoms say P.r.ada (P.r.ada)
Give her ten bands every time I see my mama (every time) Bring ten friends when you come to see Obama (ten friends)
N****s asking me where the hoes cause I got em (cause I got em)
Can’t bring no lames round my bros, they might rob em (they might rob em)
Forgis got me sitting real high like a Tonka (like a Tonka)
I keep f#cking all my b#tch friends, that’s my problem (that’s my problem)
All these black trucks pulling up, where my driver
My b#tch bad and she thick as f#ck, I can’t hide her (I cant hide her)
In DaVinci bleeding, damn I need to go to Kaiser (god damn)
All you do is suck it for a hour, how you tired (how you tired)
We ain’t ever tripping over b#tches, that sh#t minor (shit minor)
At Celine getting dressed, I don’t need no iron (need no iron)
Putting that sh#t on, paid a lot for my attire (put that sh#t on) Jeeezy he that n**** all the pretty hoes admire (they admire)
Five star plates, I aint eating at no diner (eating at no diner)
Stuff an eighth in the wood, I don’t need no grinder (I don’t need no grinder) I want the baddest out the friends, let me meet the rest (baddest ones) Shoot dubs, man I hate how these n****s bet (hate how these n****s bet)
Swear to got I hate how these n****s dress (hate how these n****s dress) FaceTime with a famous b#tch, It won’t reconnect (won’t reconnect)
I just dumped all my b#tches, finna reselect (reselect)
Everything you want in that box right there to the left (to the left)
She like my cologne, she like damn n**** what is that (what is that)
Gasing all my songs, they like “damn where the chorus at” (ain’t no chorus) BucksClan, we can’t lose, I’m the quarterback (I’m the quarterback) Gabana frames on my face, felt like Horace Grant (Horace Grant)
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Lyrics BlueBucksClan – Horace Grant
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