Текст песни 1 Scale (feat. G Herbo) - G Herbo , Young Dolph
Let
the
band
play,
yeah
All
I
need
is
one
scale,
a
couple
bales,
came
in
this
shit
by
myself
"Dolph,
why
you
fuck
his
girl?"
Uh,
shit,
'cause
I'm
a
player
Quarterback,
no
NFL
(ayy),
drippy
in
Chanel
(drippy)
Playin'
hide
go
seek
in
the
mansion
with
my
lil'
girl
(Aria)
Elevator
was
too
crowded,
so
I
took
the
stairs
(woo)
The
whole
industry
was
hatin',
so
now
I
give
'em
hell
(ha)
Business
man,
I
invest
a
whole
million
in
the
mail
(yeah)
Yeah
(yeah),
yeah
(yeah),
yeah
(yeah),
yeah
I
treat
bitches
like
some
shoes,,
I
cop
'em
by
the
pairs
(it's
Dolph)
She
like
when
I
grab
her
neck
and
pull
her
by
her
hair
(it's
Dolph)
In
my
city,
I'm
more
important
than
the
fuckin'
mayor
(it's
Dolph)
Ten
years
straight,
I
set
the
prices
on
the
kush,
I
swear
(it's
Dolph)
I
got
your
bitch
lookin'
for
Flipper
(where
he
at?)
I
let
her
ride
like
a
bicycle
(ah)
I
pulled
out
and
bust
on
her
dimples
(ah)
Quarter
milli'
for
this
Richard
(Mille)
I
had
to
run
up
them
digits
(run
it
up)
Niggas
know
that
I'm
the
sickest
(for
real)
Bitches
know
that
I'm
the
littest
Whip
my
dick
out
and
piss
on
your
feelings
(for
real)
I
heard
that
lil'
nigga
from
Memphis
(okay)
I
heard
he
used
to
trap
in
Fendi
(okay)
I
heard
he
went
to
jail
in
a
Bentley
(okay)
Straps
with
me
in
New
York
City
(uh)
Lil'
black
nigga
with
all
this
fuckin'
paper
on
me,
man
What
the
fuck
they
mean,
man?
I
can't
go
out
like
that
(uh),
huh,
hold
up
Bangin'
L's,
swangin'
scales
(what?)
Shakin',
got
residue
in
my
nails
(what?)
Started
gettin'
real
money,
we
bustin'
bales
Everybody
on
the
floor
know
the
smell,
uh
Dropped
out
of
high
school
Had
to
start
bringin'
my
Glock,
couldn't
show
and
tell,
uh
(pussy)
Big
bro
got
life
in
the
feds
Can't
talk
on
the
phone,
but
he
know
it's
well
Walked
out
the
trap
with
a
big
ol'
bag
'Til
I
pop
in
the
house,
I
was
on
a
seal
(we
swerve)
We
was
sinnin'
on
Sunday,
that
bitch
in
my
hand
But
I'm
sittin'
in
my
head,
know
I'm
gon'
prevail,
uh
If
I
call
her
house
phone
Tell
her,
"Bring
that
bitch
out
cocked",
then
my
mama
will
(come
on)
I
was
18,
my
OG
seen
me
hop
out
the
Benz
or
a
Bonneville
(bah)
I
bought
a
mansion,
pop
in
that
bitch
fresh
off
a
shootout,
I'm
hot
as
hell
Shh,
you
gon'
do
some
time,
niggas
probably
tell
Fuck
it,
this
lifestyle,
know
I
probably
will
I'm
in
New
York
with
my
nigga
Dolph
He
rockin'
wop,
but
his
neck
on
Gabbana
still
(uh)
I'm
rockin'
Christian
Dior
with
a
bag
full
of
blues
(uh)
All
black
but
it's
Prada
still
(swerve)
I'm
in
the
'Raq,
Benihana,
don't
eat
at
Hamada
See
opp,
he
get
probably
killed
(swerve)
Told
lil'
bro,
"Come
out
with
me
in
Bali"
Get
out
the
'Raq,
he
might
come
near,
catch
a
body
still
(shh)
I'll
pull
up
on
your
home
in
a
Lam'
smokin'
out
the
sack
Arch
her
back,
disappear,
artefact
(skrrt)
I
ain't
comin'
with
shit
but
my
pipe
and
a
box
of
mags
20
on
me,
that's
my
starter
pack
Gettin'
too
much
money,
we
ain't
tryna
make
arch-rivals
You
know
we
spark
rides
(bah)
I
was
outside
and
that's
the
reason
we
won
battles
Nigga,
we
weren't
part-time
Got
a
youngin,
he
only
send
straight
at
you
(seen
'em)
You
ain't
never
heard
that
snake
rap?
(Go
get
'em)
On
a
nigga
head,
then
we
just
can't
catch
you
Spin
twice,
mad
as
fuck,
we
went
straight
past
you
Ever
tried
to
kill
a
nigga
just
'cause
you
had
to?
Meeting
up
in
the
clubhouse
like
Rascals
(huh?)
Everybody
rich
as
fuck,
ain't
nothin'
past
due
I
could
go
grab
a
M
from
my
mama
pad
too
Let
me
see
what
you
gon'
do,
we
could
team-tag
two
Oh,
you
ain't
with
the
shit,
have
somebody
blast
you
Kel-Tec
on
my
lap,
if
God
bless
you,
I
tag
you
Have
you
fillin'
the
bag
with
your
fast
food
(pussy)
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