Tory Lanez & Kevin Gates – Convertible Burt

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Tory Lanez & Kevin Gates – Convertible Burt lyrics

[Verse 1: Tory Lanez]Hop in that bitch and I go
I cannot stress this bitch no more
Fifty racks came outside from the mall

Still come kick down your door
I don’t got no time for no fuck shit
All in the packet, little baby gon’ bust it
All of my hunnids, they printed out blue
And they knew and I knew it as soon as I touch it
Bad joint, hop out the whip
Let a nigga up it, I’ma up out the stick
Say you finna catch me in traffic
But little nigga in the backseat, shoot an opp out the whip
I ain’t finna fuck shit, nah, nah, hop in that Scat and that’s that
I made her put a whole ten in her bag
Used to talk real crazy to a nigga but I made her put it back in her track
703, put the dice back down to the ground
But you know a nigga bettin’ on me
Broke boy, he ain’t got nothin’ on me
I hop out the whip, I’m stuntin’ on three
Niggas on dick and they hoverin’
I’m poppin’ so hard, that bitch let my brother hit
Tropical water on me like I’m Fiji
I used to set that shit up on a PG
I know the scammers, the trappers, the killers
Tryna cop baby Pampers and some pillows
I’m with the Ace, smokin’ gorilla
You see my jacket? This shit chinchilla
I just got back on road, now I’m iced up
Like I just got fifty outta DR
Sendin’ you fuck boys to the ER
They say nobody poppin’, bitch, well we are
Bitch, I might land in the strip in Miami
My bitch is gon’ fuck me and never gon’ dump me
Right out the dealer, I’m sendin’ these pictures
Girl, and I know that they never gon’ touch me
Bitch is go-happy, go-lucky
All of my niggas, they don’t care, stand with no ducky
All of my rap friends, don’t y’all come around shinin’ that ice, my man might buck it
Now that I’m all independent, I’m out of my label
I promise I play about nothin’
Ain’t got no label restrictions or politics niggas
They talk and they play? I’ma bust it, ayy
Like how I jugg and I stick it though
I got that green on my body like Piccolo
She wanna fuck with a gigolo
I’m hittin’ these ho, ’bout to deuce like Bigalow, ayy
Granted, I came out the dirt
Doin’ Aventadors, slam it, I came out, I skrrt
Nigga, don’t play on my turf
Play with this choppa, I bet this shit rain on your Earth
You want a wifey? You said that you’ll give her your worth
I hit that shit, it was dirt
Then I slid off in a flirt
Felt like Convertible Burt, ayy, ayy
[Verse 2: Kevin Gates]Air Force 1s, NFL trainin’
In the game with an NFL trainer
Movin’ pale, tracker on a trailblazer
Caught a sale, what a major bill changer
I’m in the lead, in a league of my own
Supplyin’ the peace, get a piece of me gone
I’m in the streets and they ringin’ my phone
Surprisin’ to me, I can’t leave it alone
I’m in a sports car
Roll down the window and then I advance in a sports bra
Don’t tell me you love her
Permanent stain in the streets, I got love thoughts
I get a hand full of mushrooms, I take some to recharge
Iced out, leave the clip in the stainless
Lifestyle of the rich and the famous
Close quarters in the whip with a gangster
Pipe down up in here ‘fore I spank you
Pull up, corner round the bend
I walk down, never slid, yeah
I got power, no pretend, yeah
Only cowards like to spend, yeah
Barbershop we for real, yeah
Grip the clippers, split a wig, yeah
Caught a clip, you’re in a wheelchair
We gon’ to war in this time
Put it on party time
Turnin’ your party down
And I’ma walk ’em round
Know I’m a God now

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