Young Thug – Numbers (2015) | Track profile | Dork

Young Thug – Numbers (2015) | Track profile | Dork

Lyrics

Numbers

[Intro]

Yeah

Thugger Thugger

Got my brodie London in this motherfucker, man

I'm tellin' ya this beat hard as... this song hard as fuck, listen, bro, uh

I go up, up, up and away

And I got old hundreds, they wrinkled like a Shar Pei (What?)

Plus I'm the realest nigga inside the A (What?)

Yeah

[Chorus]

And them boys in Atlanta, they don't play, yeah (Uh)

And them boys from Atlanta tote them K's, yeah (Yeah)

And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkey niggas (What?)

I got plenty ammo for your bumblin', nigga

Ammo for these pussy motherfuckas (Yeah)

Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother (Yeah)

Fuck nigga trippin', I'll get prison and fuck your father (What?)

I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't goin' (Puss) farther

I'm doin' numbers (No, no)

[Verse 1]

I got bands in the bando (No no), and I'm beatin' David Banner (Yeah)

And I'm smokin' on cabana (Yeah), leanin', movin' slow as grandma (Racks)

Motor runnin', spent them commas, now it's thunder (What?)

Count a hundred, want a hundred more, that's hunger (Hunger)

Yeah, baby, Thugger Thugger hungry, yes, I'm hungry

Young Thugger got the munchies (Yeah)

All my diamonds come in yellow like a Funyun (Yeah)

Yeah, all my gold made 'em sick and they can vomit (Guh)

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah... pussy nigga know they can vomit

I'm growin' green, me and Chi-Chi, no pet

But (What?), I'm chasin' dreams, free Meek Milly

[Chorus]

And them boys in Atlanta, they (Hey) don't play (Hey), yeah (Hey)

And them boys from Atlanta tote them K's, yeah (Tote them k's yeah)

And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkey niggas (What?)

I got plenty ammo for your bumblin', nigga (And what else, and what?)

Ammo for these pussy motherfuckas

Run up I swear to God I want tears from your mother (Yeah)

Fuck nigga trippin', I'll get prison and fuck your father (What?)

I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't goin' farther (Ain't tellin' 'em)

I'm doin' numbers (Yeah, numbers, numbers, numbers)

[Verse 2]

I'ma tell 'em one time (Swear, swear, swear, swear)

Yeah, I can read his mind

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, then start ridin' (Skrrt, gah, gah)

Brand new 24's, bitch on climb (Woah, skrr)

You's a busta, mothafucka rhymes

No sticky fingers, no porcupine

Hey (Yee), genius, I'll chase the day

Wait (Sheesh), let me pick up his remains

Hey (Sheesh), let them gators get their prey

(Brr, brr, brr), Hold up, hold up, wait

[Chorus]

And them boys in Atlanta, they don't play, yeah

And them boys from Atlanta tote them K's, yeah

And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkey niggas

I got plenty ammo for your bumblin', nigga

Ammo for these pussy motherfuckas

Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother

Fuck nigga trippin', I'll get prison and fuck your father

I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't goin' farther

I'm doin' numbers

Lyrics provided by LRCLIB

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