Young Thug — 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 Plus I'm the realest nigga inside the A, yeah [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 monkeys, nigga I got plenty ammo for your bumblin', nigga Ammo for these pussy mothafuckas Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother Fuck nigga tripping, I'll get prison and fuck your father I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't going farther I'm doing numbers [Verse 1] I got bands in the bando and I'm beating David Banner And I'm smoking on cabana, leanin', movin' slow as grandma Motor runnin', spent them commas, now it's thunder Count a hundred, want a hundred more, that's hunger Yeah, baby, Thugger Thugger hungry, yes, I'm hungry Young Thugger got the munchies All my diamonds come in yellow like a Funyun Yeah, all my gold made 'em sick and they can vomit Yeah, yeah, yeah... pussy nigga know they can vomit I'm growing green, me and Chi-Chi, no pet But I'm chasing dreams, free Meek Milly [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 monkeys, nigga I got plenty ammo for your bumblin', nigga Ammo for these pussy mothafuckas Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother Fuck nigga tripping, I'll get prison and fuck your father I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't going farther I'm doing numbers [Verse 2] I'ma tell 'em one time I can read your mind Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, then start ridin' Brand new 24's, bitch on climb You's a busta, mothafucka rhymes No sticky fingers, no porcupine Hey, genius, I'll chase the day Wait, let me pick up his remains Hey, let them gators get their prey 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 monkeys, nigga I got plenty ammo for your bumblin', nigga Ammo for these pussy mothafuckas Run up, I swear to God I want tears from your mother Fuck nigga tripping, I'll get prison and fuck your father I'ma tell 'em one time, ain't going farther I'm doing numbers