Top Songs By Tyga
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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tyga
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jess Jackson
Songwriter
Michael Stevenson
Songwriter
Kenneth Coby
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Soundz
Producer
Jess Jackson
Producer
Lyrics
Stand back, god talk
The watch cost
First things first I pop, sling all the honeys
Ain't it funny? Angel, I got devils wanting money
Seems sacred but get nathin'
My penetration is all revelations
And my eyes only seeing basic, they foul flagrant
Infatuated with the bracelets, diamond-cut player
You fallacious, not complacent
Competition, I'm your favourite, knock knock
It's me, motherfucker, you're dead wrong
Turning your doorknob, a heartthrob
Never my title but you bitches getting robbed
I rhyme and flip lines so far ahead of my time
My punchlines is lemon lime
I'm sour, nigga, sweeter than pine
I'm God's gift like Christmas time
The money Jewish but it's black on black crimes
They box me in from time to time
For a Rolex, is you willing to die? You willing to die, nigga?
Oh shit, nigga, you a rich nigga?
Does your wrist glitter? How much your car engine?
I can tell you got six figures
Figure you ain't no real nigga
You don't struggle like real niggas
Probably snitch on a real nigga
Just to get you out of bed, nigga
Well let's see, my god is your god
If he got faith in me, go and pull the trigger
And leave it be, nigga
Russian roulette, let's make a bet
100 on black, I'm back with a vengeance, the villain is vicious
Heart of gold is relentless, book of Genesis
Don't eat the apple, but you'd rather live ravish
Street savvy, but not wealthy
Good health, be blessed, tryna reach the heavens
One day as I pray, halo over me
As I lay back, chick on my lap everyday, this god talk
This god talk
This god talk
Let god talk
Stand back lil nigga, let God talk
Tryna follow Christ, but this club light super bright
And they pay me cash every single night
Taking models back to the crib
I know you want my life, you don't want my life
Couldn't handle what they write about you
The Superman of height, you can get 'em high
But how far is you willing to climb for your own shine?
Blowing shine, papers let a nigga vibe, letting God talk
I'm like when summer approach
Niggas thinking they're good, but they're more TO
I'm known coast to coast, you tryna play god
With the devil's robes
It's only one god, boy, you far from close
Been ready, change cars like winter coats
Niggas bubblegum, Winterfresh, in they Easter clothes
No lint on my Easter clothes
Resurrect, the prophet spoke
This god talk
This god talk
Let god talk
And the Lord he told me find my way home
And the Lord he told me find my way home
And the Lord he told me make me home
And the Lord he told me find my way home
Writer(s): Michael Stevenson, Kenneth Coby, Jess Reed Jackson
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