Chocolate
Young Thug Takeoff Quavo Gunna Lyrics
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DJ Durel
Fuck my lil' money, I want a lil' mouth (su')
Skeet on the couch and I'm out (skeet)
Fuck that lil' shit that you talkin' 'bout (huh)
My wrist worth a Bentley Bentayga now (skrrt)
Fuck that lil' bitch, we gon' take her down (smash)
Big double cup with the pinky out (double cup)
Blue Benjis long like a slinky now
Lockin' in, you know the gang, we lockin' in (lockin' in)
Hustlin', yeah, stuff your pockets in (hustlin')
Jet with no passengers flyin' in (gone)
Yeah, yeah, poppin' shit (poppin' shit)
Lil' bro ain't gon' play when he poppin' it (rahh)
Ain't nothin' to say, no apologies (no)
Get back to the trap on the wireless (brrt, brrt)
Blessin' the city (city)
We goin' vacuum seal when we finish
You know the players like the racks skinny (skinny)
I'm talkin' all clean, blue Benjis
You know I told your bitch if I'ma I spin it (spin it)
She gotta drop her top and show her titties
I got the thirty on me when I hit it (hit it)
I gave her ten to three, I told 'em split it
42 with a little X, she gon' mix it (woo)
It's ice on both hands, put 'em up, no violence (freeze)
Fire, (brrt) and start hearin' the sirens (whoo, whoo)
They wanna go viral (he want to)
Hop in my coupe, drop the top of my roof
Pull off and skirt my tires (skkrt, yeah)
Bad bitches be hotter
Walk in the spot and we finna surprise 'em (ooh, que lo que)
Fuck my lil' money, I want a lil' mouth (su')
Skeet on the couch and I'm out (skeet)
Fuck that lil' shit that you talkin' 'bout (huh)
My wrist worth a Bentley Bentayga now (skrrt)
Fuck that lil' bitch, we gon' take her down (smash)
Ice on the wrist, kiss the finger now (ice)
Big double cup with the pinky out (double cup)
Blue Benjis long like a slinky now
Lockin' in, you know the gang, we lockin' in (lockin' in)
Hustlin', yeah, stuff your pockets in (hustlin')
Jet with no passengers flyin' in (gone)
Yeah, yeah, poppin' shit (poppin' shit)
Lil' bro ain't gon' play when he poppin' it (rahh)
Ain't nothin' to say, no apologies (no)
Get back to the trap on the wireless (brrt, brrt)
Lock in the bando, I don't need nothin' but water
The baking soda then I whip 'til it's harder
I popped out the crib with your lil' bitty daughter
I fucked her, then put that lil' ho on the MARTA
The Bentley, the 'Rari, I swap with the Benz
Parked the Rolls car, then hopped in a sedan
I just had got that lil' bitch from my mans
So I was fuckin' that ho with my chain in my hand
All gold Rollie with a off-white tan
My son got a Saint Laurent ring on his hand
I just copped some molly, was looking like sand
Shittin' on you niggas, I don't care 'bout shit stains
I was kickin' my shit, like Jackie Chan
Peanut butter wrist, fuck a nigga sayin'?
Take it off his wrist, serve a nigga strand
Look at my neck and my wrist from 'Pan
Big face Patek with a chocolate band (yeah)
Look at my wrist, doin' techno dance (techno dance)
Bought an aircraft, I landed on land (land)
Luger Lex flex, two-hundred on sedan (two-hundred)
Thirty-five hundred on blue jean pants (yeah, suede)
Yeah, Chrome Heart brand (Chrome)
Throwin' the money up, barely pop another band (pop another tag)
Bitch pussy poppin' on the stand (whoa)
We red light, green light, all of 'em gettin' ran (skrrt)
Pretty bitches OD, and all of 'em gettin' ran (all of 'em gettin' ran)
Fuck all the police, free my dawg out the can (whoa)
Whip top off the V, double cup in my hand (skrrt)
Big Dior IP, drip in Louis V Vans (uh)
Lookin' at me like she want a advance (whoa)
I take one more pill and the rest will enhance
Young Wunna, yeah, might cost your arm and a leg (arm and a leg)
Fuck my lil' money, I want a lil' mouth (su')
Skeet on the couch and I'm out (skeet)
Fuck that lil' shit that you talkin' 'bout (huh)
My wrist worth a Bentley Bentayga now (skrrt)
Fuck that lil' bitch, we gon' take her down (smash)
Ice on the wrist, kiss the finger now (ice)
Big double cup with the pinky out (double cup)
Blue Benjis long like a slinky now
Lockin' in, you know the gang, we lockin' in (lockin' in)
Hustlin', yeah, stuff your pockets in (hustlin')
Jet with no passengers flyin' in (gone)
Yeah, yeah, poppin' shit (poppin' shit)
Lil' bro ain't gon' play when he poppin' it (rahh)
Ain't nothin' to say, no apologies (no)
Get back to the trap on the wireless (brrt, brrt)
In these lyrics, the artists are expressing their confidence, wealth, and assertiveness in the rap game. They start by acknowledging the producer, DJ Durel, and affirming their trust in his beat. The initial lines suggest a disregard for small amounts of money compared to their desire for sexual encounters. They mention ejaculating on a couch and dismissive towards insignificant matters others may talk about.
The lyrics then emphasize their expensive and luxurious lifestyle. They boast about the value of their wrist accessories, like a Bentley Bentayga and an ice-covered wrist, showcasing their wealth and status. They assert their dominance over women, indicating their intention to pursue sexual encounters and take control.
Next, they discuss their involvement in the trap scene, referring to the illegal drug distribution industry. They mention their dedication to their hustle, stuffing their pockets with money earned from their illegal activities. They further assert their adventurous and fearless nature by referring to jetting around with no passengers and popping shit (bragging) about their lifestyle. They mention their entourage's readiness to engage in violent acts to protect their reputation or retaliate against others who threaten them.
The lyrics continue with references to their sexual conquests and flashy lifestyle. They mention having intercourse with someone's daughter in a casual manner, not caring about the consequences. They also highlight their ability to acquire expensive possessions, like a gold Rolex and luxury cars. Additionally, the lyrics mention the drug MDMA (or "molly") and their disregard for societal judgments or criticisms, seemingly highlighting their carefree and rebellious attitudes.
Towards the end, they bring attention to their extravagant purchases, such as a big-faced Patek Philippe watch with a chocolate-colored band. They assert their presence and style, comparing their wrist movements to a techno dance. They mention owning an aircraft, portraying their success and ability to travel luxuriously. Furthermore, the lyrics touch on financial investments, designer clothing, and a disregard for authority, exemplified through derogatory terms for law enforcement and their disregard for legal repercussions.
Overall, these lyrics express the artists' confidence, extravagance, and rebellious attitudes. They convey their pursuit of pleasure, wealth, and power within the music industry and their disregard for societal norms or judgments. The lyrics exhibit a lifestyle of excess and indulgence, flaunting their material possessions and sexual conquests.
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Daryl Mcpherson, Jeffrey Williams, Kirsnick Ball, Quavious Keyate Marshall, Raymond Christopher Herring, Sergio Kitchens
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
splfs
It's ice on both hands, put 'em up, no violence
Fire, and start hearing the sirens
They wanna go viral
Hop in my coupe, drop the top of my roof
Pull off and skrrt my tires
Bad bitches, we hide 'em
Walk in the spot and we finna surprise 'em
RIP to another Legend man
Sipho Mthembu
Hearing Thug just put a smile on my face. It felt like I'll never hear from him again...
David Alex
@sam cook ❤
Sam Many
PLENTY OF LEAKS MY GUY
Corey Miller
Dito. Free Thugga
Real KB
That’s how I feel bout Takeoff 🛫 Rip 🪦 ❤
Sponge_Paw
Rest in peace takeoff this world is so jealous to see you reaching on top 💔💔🕊
Jeremiah Colline
💯💯💯
dauntlyss ♤
@STRAIGHTTFUP 🗿
Sebakahle Simelane
Gunna's flow deserves to be in a museum for future generations
Ethan Gilbert
@Speed Demon frrr sahbabii way better