Young Thug's lyrics dive into the gritty reality of street life in Atlanta. He talks about the toughness and readiness of his crew, emphasizing their willingness to defend themselves with firearms ("tote them K's") and their aggressive stance against enemies. The repeated mention of "doing numbers" highlights his success and wealth accumulation, alongside references to luxury items and a lavish lifestyle. Despite the bravado, there's an underlying message of loyalty to his roots and the hunger for more success. This track is a raw portrayal of ambition, danger, and resilience in the streets. #StreetLife #AtlantaRap #HustleHard #Success
Numbers
Lyrics
And them boys in Atlanta they don't play yah
And them boys from Atlanta, tote them K's yeah
And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkey niggas
And I got plenty ammo for your family nigga
Ammo for these pussy mothafuckas
Run up I swear to God I want tears from your mother
Fuck nigga tripping I get prison and fuck your father
Imma 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 hunnid 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 Funyon
Yeah all my gold made 'em sick and they can vomit
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 yah
And them boys from Atlanta, tote them K's yeah
And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkey niggas
And I got plenty ammo for your family nigga
Ammo for these pussy mothafuckas
Run up I swear to God I want tears from your mother
Fuck nigga tripping I get prison and fuck your father
Imma tell 'em one time, ain't going farther
I'm doing numbers
Imma tell em one time
I can read your mind
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 yah
And them boys from Atlanta, tote them K's yeah
And them boys from Atlanta got bananas for these monkey niggas
And I got plenty ammo for your family nigga
Ammo for these pussy mothafuckas
Run up I swear to God I want tears from your mother
Fuck nigga tripping I get prison and fuck your father
Imma tell 'em one time, ain't going farther
I'm doing numbers
Writer(s): London Tyler Holmes, Arsenio Umberto Archer, Jeffery Lamar Williams
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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