Soulja Boy - Vintage lyrics

n***as say they want that beef Agoff came in, strapped up Laying n***as back up Ballistics your back up Better call for backup Act tough BZ got my back bro Came in n***a like a navy seal Keep it real n***as I'm up in that field Like a f**ing army man Guns came from Pakistan We came from Pakistan Giving n***as bag hands Street n***a's life b**hes We all sitting up twenty inches And I sh** on twenty eight Life is great And it may Eat the cake n***a I Take you n***as any day Never gave a f** Cause my cake up Wake up Bake up n***a I ain't With that f**ing hating stuff f** that Positive But I'm a lip Twenty's whip Got my money on my mind I'm out of here So fly Need some f**ing land to give Understand Agoff Is the f**ing man in here Never gave a f** about the next man n***a I'm the best man Agoff I'm the hit man Leaning on that [?] Vintage, vintage, vintage, vintage, vintage See I Got a sign A Get my money all day Whip my n***a TAZ Ain't no motherf**ing freak Rhymes for two time felon That's may selling Weed on the street Still hustle just to eat f** with me you defeat Never see me on the floor I get hit some n***as get murdered Get some murder more It's that real sh** k**er sh** Catch you up I'm real as sh** Pull you f**ing eyes Out your face You be feeling sh** I don't give a f** Smoke some drone Pa**ed that row b**hes want to f** some more She off that blow She's a hoe She going to s** me at the party With the [?] T some records in the club And we not up here to fight Just f** a b**h Swag out n***as out here mad about Us balling out you just a f*g out, a f*g out Pull you flag out Bet it's pink Have a drink b**h a** n***a Can't get b**hes Cause his f**ing breath stink He's on where these hoes at n***a where the drones at You ain't fresh b**h Where your fly fresh clothes at? You, looking broke rat Looking like a broke b**h We going to smoke some weed n***a We don't roll up rich Brand new Feeling sh** Brand new Vintage, vintage, vintage, vintage, vintage Brand new k**er tick Brand new Illicit Vintage, vintage, vintage, vintage, new vintage Hoe that new vintage New vintage hoe Brand new Ocean gang Millionaire Ben D Fen D Gucci b**hes want to f** me s** me Screw me Cocaine on my card Yeah she going to sniff it up s** on his dick girl Yeah going to get it up Squirt you Work you But I never hurt you Yeah it's a clipping blood Blood, cuts and raw moves Yeah young Jesus n***as know where's ether Add that X on the front b**h it's Tisa Yeah slide you Visa Yeah I'm like ether Yeah I'm in the clouds yeah uh But you see the cloud and the foreman Sun of George Foreman Good a grill good a meal Yeah we be swarming Yeah I'm that guy too Yeah call me Tele View Till your b**h went She come in To my view Yeah it's the teeth that click SODMG b**h Meet Soulja Boy We be getting to know [?] Soulja, Soulja, Tisa, tat a [?] I'm his beat I'm a slap her Yeah, I do this sh** Tisa Gang Ocean Gang What the f** you want to do? b**h sniffing that c**aine Yeah goddamn I swag got a space Man you're a f**ing disgrace Came in first place Young Dre MCM briefcase I got hit Money in my pocket [?] Gold in my wallet Treat you like a stocking Hang you on that f**ing wall d**h is what pick up a drone So I won't pick up her calls Every day I f**ing ball And I'm knocking pictures Of your f**ing wall Young Soulja Boy Met my swag It's fantastic f** your body Dump your body Of in Lake [?] I'm live boy It's nothing I'm riding on a lama All day stitching clear with the drum bro They don't want their drama Main they ride around with tats on them Tisa Gang, Ocean Gang We'll swarm them I don't want to harm them But I knock his head of his shoulder bro n***a catch an uppercut n***a catch a peak shot Riding around my hood Yeah you think it's the east coast f**ing with the west coast Hit his man girl with the best throw Goddamn this Tisa gang splashing Ocean Gang Came out the water ready for the action n***a talk that sh** I'm still going to get it in This is like a homicide I'm about my dividends Twenty two twelve We ain't taking sh** Bro we taking it Everywhere we hit the block All that f**ing cash we spent b**h is staring Ocean Gang, Tisa Gang All up in Paris Goddamn don't give me that b**h I'm Karl Lager Field Swaging with that fifty clip Talking on that f**ing ship Punch you in your f**ing lip Oh God Vintage, vintage, vintage, vintage, vintage