Wiz Khalifa, Big K.R.I.T., Smoke DZA & Girl Talk – No Singles Lyrics

Wiz Khalifa, Big K.R.I.T., Smoke DZA & Girl Talk – No Singles Lyrics
No Singles
Wiz Khalifa, Big K.R.I.T., Smoke DZA & Girl Talk
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    No Singles Album Art
    "No Singles." - Wiz Khalifa, Big K.R.I.T., Smoke DZA & Girl Talk

    Album: Full Court Press
    Track No: 05
    Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Uh)
    Blowin' kush smoke out the window (Right)
    Pockets full of hundreds, no singles (Uh)
    Pockets full of hundreds, no singles
    Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Right)
    Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Uh)
    Cruisin' down the street in my '64
    Pockets full of hundreds, no singles
    My pen way sharper than a sword
    Keep your cool, don't make me pull a cord, my lord
    Was in the trap, see the cracks in the decor
    Still paint chips droppin' on the floor, my lord, uh
    God bless ya
    Smooth like Drexler
    Mind state trained to move itself like Tesla (Uh)
    Crime rate boostin'
    Chicks takin' trips, troopin'
    Profited from them trips to Houston (Really)
    GED, gettin' every dollar
    Countin' stacks, either that or get to bouncin' like Impalas (Uh)
    Have them jack boys all up on your collar
    And twenty-five's the new numbers for lows, I'll holler
    Cruisin' down the street in my '64
    Blowin' kush smoke out the window (Hahaha)
    Pockets full of hundreds, no singles (Yeah, yup)
    Pockets full of hundreds, no singles
    Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Right)
    Cruisin' down the street in my '64 (Uh)
    Cruisin' down the street in my '64
    Pockets full of hundreds, no singles
    I was whippin' in the kitchen, whipped it on the corner
    I was workin' on the foreign, whipped it 'til the mornin', you was snorin'
    Pushin' on some buttons, turnin' nothin' into somethin'
    It was lint up in my wallet, now these pockets super lumpy
    Breakin' bread with my partners
    Whippin' on some choppers
    Stick my arm out the window just to shine on these boppers
    Just to shine on these bitches, recline on these hoes
    When your wrist game froze, tell 'em anything goes
    Gutter bass with the treble, mix the highs with low
    Woodgrain on the dash, reppin' wires with Vogues
    Pop trunk for the show, inside, it glow
    Chrome grill and the women whip wide and slow, hold up
    Cruisin' down the street in my '64
    Blowin'— blowin' kush smoke out the window
    Pockets full of hundreds, no singles
    Pockets— pockets full of hundreds, no singles

    Writer(s): Cameron Jibril Thomaz, Gregg Gillis, Justin Scott, Sam Dees & Sean Pompey.

    All lyrical content displayed on this website is the intellectual property of its respective copyright holders. No ownership is implied, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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