Текст песни Numbers (Young Thug) с переводом

Yeah

Thugger Thugger

Got my broadie London in this mothafucker man

I’m tellin' ya this beat hard as… this one hard as fuck, listen bro

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

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 up

I’ma tell 'em one time, ain’t going farther

I’m doing numbers

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… pussy nigga know they can vomit

I’m growing green, me and Chi-Chi, no pet

I’m chasing dreams, free Meek Milly

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 up

I’ma tell 'em one time, ain’t going farther

I’m doing numbers

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

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

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 up

I’ma tell 'em one time, ain’t going farther

I’m doing numbers

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