Lil Yachty - Still On 8 Mile Lyrics

      

Still On 8 Mile
by Lil Yachty
feat. Rio Da Yung OG

Enrgy made this one
Who's the man that runs the town and floods the block with chicken and pounds
Put the pints on the Greyhound
Teach you to make a Cassandra, and Alexander can now get hit with a hammer
Goddammit, I love Atlanta
Making it, shaking it, gripping it, breaking it
Uh
No taking it, I ain't never gonna force a bitch
Really a heathen, my niggas is fiending
Don't give him a reason

 He woke up on the wrong side today
Okay
I can't decide what I want to ride today
Okay
My bitch hit my phone like, "You not hot today"
Living in primetime like I'm Deion
Old school G Wagon and it's neon, neon, neon
Stick singing likе Céline Dion, Dion, Dion
Niggas ain't fucking with us, now what we on, we on, wе on
Oh, that's your bitch
Let me see some, see some, see some
Yeah, let me see some

 Just had a six pulled up on Lil' Boat, now it's a three gone
Your album trash
Tried to listen to it, fell asleep on it
I'ma A, B, C, D, E, F, put a G on it
My scale jumping up and down, I just tried to put a B on it
I'm at the studio with Yachty asking him to call P for me
It's GB
We Ghetto Boys, but we trying to get QC money
Ain't got no blinds in the living room window, put a sheet on it

 If that nigga try to step up here again, pull the heat on him
My hoes do anything I say 'cause I beat on 'em
As soon as them bitches hit the ground, I put my feet on 'em
Treat a nigga like Pro Tools, put a beat on him
Warm a pussy nigga up like a microwave, put the heat on him
I really, really put my feet on her
Treat her like a towel in the closet, put my skete on her
Hope the gas on 'cause I'm finna put my meat on her

 I told her I don't, but of course I still cheat on her
If she dub me, best believe my bros gon' beat on her
She don't suck well
Oh, hell nah, I'm gon' pee on her
I'm gon' get P on her
F ain't no brakes, raise the stakes, I'm your sperm donor
Sperm donor, bank runner, homeowner
She hope I don't turn on her
I hope she stay down
I've been on the same street for an hour now, this ain't 8 Miles

 Yeah
Yes, it is, boy
Look
Don't bring no extra niggas with you, this a private session
My bitch got a pool between her legs, I need diving lessons
When she riding, I keep saying slow down like a driving lesson
Shot his casket up at the wake, nigga died in heaven
I thought you had real VSs, why your neck itching
Sipping blood, counting up blues, they like, "You set tripping"
Picking bud off the crop with Khaled paying the best ticket

 Sipping mud, high down in Atlanta, pint of Tech with me
Boat said don't call 'em earrings if they ain't ten carats
Good dope selling, methamphetamines got me big breasts
I want two nines, a half, six zips and a brick seven
Hundred pounds of white runs from JoJo, I'm bench pressing
That was my lil' dawgs who just shot up the playground
Only thing my opps can say about me is, "This K loud"
Hey, Boat, we'll be there in a minute, we still on 8 Mile