Iggy Azalea - We In This ***** Lyrics
We got money in our pocket, and whatever you're sipping onRed-bottom limping around this b***h, what the f**k you tripping on?Twenty goons, they in this b***h, you better check your toneAnd they gon put you back in place if you do something wrongWe in this b***h, yeah we in this b***hWe got a section full of girls and they barely speak any EnglishLet's toast it up to that life and I mean itWe in this b***h, we in this hoI got the. 40 on me now, who wants to Plaxico?Shout to Gangsta Gibbs, he the next to blowYou should see my gangster grill, I light the s**t from blowSnowy car transforming instead of transformerYou ever cook the whole thing on a George Foreman?What about a nine on the gas grill?Four-fifty for the silk, pay my gas billSo many horses in the 'rari, park it in the barnTook the ice up out my cup and put it in my charmAnd this bad b***h with me from another planetStay on the satellite phone - man, I can't stand itHey baby girl, hang the phone upNo talking with your mouth full - you's a grown-upWhat the f**k? Who the hell?Flashback in this b***h, thought I seen a scaleYou know how we handle s**t, gangster gutter glamorousZone One Atlanta s**t, over all the amateursI'm walking off in here, a boss so, dog, approach with caution thoughDisrespect is tolerated, that's some s**t you ought to knowN****s say they ball, yeah, but I'm balling harder thoughCold as the nose on a Appalachian EskimoIt finna go down, ho, popping bottles, drown hoesPaid n****s with us, ain't no broke n****s around soExcuse me - who is he? I don't do this usuallyBut I'm too fresh to fight - somebody go and get securityI'm buying this, buying that, getting that check and flyin jetBoucheron, Constantine, Puff like, where you find that?American at the nature, boy, a lot of n***a hate your boyPocket full of money, got more paper than a paperboyFuture, Jeezy, Cris, and DramaTip say, let's go get it poppingI'm popping plenty bottles, like I got plenty bricksCall me Mr. Marcus, I'm in this b***hSuper drink, super smoke and some super hoesVip looking like we won the f*****g SuperbowlThirsty chicks trying to give it, I don't want itYou been in more laps than the Indy 500Conjure's what we drinking, faded til the world endNever see me planking, unless I'm on your girlfriendLudacris, I been a staple in this Southern gameGot the best lines, so I guess I'm slinging Southern caineMy money's louder, you rappers need to hush moreMy presidents rock, my accounts are Mount RushmoreOn the island and my phone is hitting dead spotsAltoid can of blue pills, that's my X-boxYou could hate, you could this, you could make a wishBut eight albums, and Luda's still in this b***h
