Imma ride to the top
No we cannot be stopped
I don't play about the fam
Got my hands all in them grams
And I'm run-in through these bands
Threw about a hundred K in the lamb
Post up selling them drugs with my mans
A rapper with the fame
(Look) Imma ride to the top
All my niggas can't be stopped
And we always sipping drop
And we pulling on your block
And the goofies catch the mop
Drugs always in the socks
And I never talk to cops
No I never talk to cops (Nah)
Escobar up on this track with Jack
That's Birdy to you he might get your ass clapped
For the sack for the bag and we run up with the Mac
And we cooling at the cab that's a bean that's a trap
Put my team on the map no they'll never send me back
To the jack that was wack niggas always off the twack
They try to send me back imma spazz on they ass
I really miss the fam I can never go back
Smokin on the pack ya we really blow that
We gon pull up to your crib where we know you stay at
If you talking slick we gon kick in your door
K's in your fist nobody move hit the floor
Right to the safe, no we don't play
Back to the trap, bitch gangway
Roll up the wood smoke it straight to the face
Then match that shit all day
They saw me pull up in the 5-Series Bimmer
I hopped out the whip and you know I got heaters
I can't wife that bitch cuz I know she a cheater
I can't wife that thot cuz I know she an eater
I know she an eater, I know she a cheater
She f*cked on my bros and I told her I'll leave her
They call me young skeeter
I bust on her lip like I bust on my heater
My wood in her mouth so I call her young beaver
Lil Murphy will be here Lil Murphy a skeever
The whole pack of boys ya we told em to leave her
This new bitch she bad so you might have to peep her
She told me go deeper I'm smokin the reefer
That pineapple Fanta go straight by the liter
That bitch she a hoe so I do not believe her
(Nah, never)
Get bags for the low, get packs for the low
Escobario gang we be right on the floor
We busting your door, get fun like a snow
I pop me a xan I might buy me 3 more
Them beans make me roll that drink made me slow
I'm toting the pole and I'm f*ckin your hoe
Backwoods full of dro, I'm right from the go
My niggas don't fold they tell me go harder I do it some more
Ralph Lauren my pants and these snakes get no bands
That lil boy run up and he poops in his pants
I might keep it a band, know what I'm sayin?
(You bitch)
These opps go to cops they be snitching a lot
Try bust down my door get a
That boy say huh?
Need the press look away huh?
He ain't solid no way we gon run up with the K
Shoot him down all day pouring drop of the 8
Till I can't see straight sleep it off next day
Back at it can't change better stay in your lane
Have my dog put a bullet to your brain
Ya we never ever change with gang ya I hang
With my brothers everyday and we runnin propane
And we smokin on stank got a bang and some change
But I'll never be a stain run up on me get bang
Put some bullets to your brain
Leave you slain in the rain imma cope with some fame
But I'll never be a snake and I'll never talk to jakes
(Never)
Niggas be some fakes
Stay in your lane get the f*ck up out my way
Cuz I'm coming with the K look away broad day
And we runnin to the safe and we runnin to the bank
Lil Pablo and Birdy gettin paper everyday
Pills and loud roll our way
Blow it down I can't wait
Pull us over it's a chase
Mad up in my draws
Put it out now we safe
I cut the girl off
In the way of the cake
I don't want the sex
I just came for the head
I left that man slumped
Tools in my tool shed
Tools in my shed ya I learned it from Rihad
Was gone for a minute but it wasn't all that bad
I told you all before them niggas always off the twack
But they locked me up for flats and I'm never goin back
My lyrics got a meaning but that sober shit was wack
Ya I'm back and I'm better ya that shit just be some facts
Imma ride to the top
No we cannot be stopped
I don't play about the fam
Got my hands all in them grams
And I'm run-in through these bands
Threw about a hundred K in the lamb
Post up selling them drugs with my mans
A rapper with the fame
El Escobario - On.Top (feat. BirdyLou) Lyrics
El Escobario - On.Top (feat. BirdyLou) Lyrics
Official
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Imma ride to the top
No we cannot be stopped
I don't play about the fam
Got my hands all in them grams
And I'm run-in through these bands
Threw about a hundred K in the lamb
Post up selling them drugs with my mans
A rapper with the fame
(Look) Imma ride to the top
All my niggas can't be stopped
And we always sipping drop
And we pulling on your block
And the goofies catch the mop
Drugs always in the socks
And I never talk to cops
No I never talk to cops (Nah)
Escobar up on this track with Jack
That's Birdy to you he might get your ass clapped
For the sack for the bag and we run up with the Mac
And we cooling at the cab that's a bean that's a trap
Put my team on the map no they'll never send me back
To the jack that was wack niggas always off the twack
They try to send me back imma spazz on they ass
I really miss the fam I can never go back
Smokin on the pack ya we really blow that
We gon pull up to your crib where we know you stay at
If you talking slick we gon kick in your door
K's in your fist nobody move hit the floor
Right to the safe, no we don't play
Back to the trap, bitch gangway
Roll up the wood smoke it straight to the face
Then match that shit all day
They saw me pull up in the 5-Series Bimmer
I hopped out the whip and you know I got heaters
I can't wife that bitch cuz I know she a cheater
I can't wife that thot cuz I know she an eater
I know she an eater, I know she a cheater
She f*cked on my bros and I told her I'll leave her
They call me young skeeter
I bust on her lip like I bust on my heater
My wood in her mouth so I call her young beaver
Lil Murphy will be here Lil Murphy a skeever
The whole pack of boys ya we told em to leave her
This new bitch she bad so you might have to peep her
She told me go deeper I'm smokin the reefer
That pineapple Fanta go straight by the liter
That bitch she a hoe so I do not believe her
(Nah, never)
Get bags for the low, get packs for the low
Escobario gang we be right on the floor
We busting your door, get fun like a snow
I pop me a xan I might buy me 3 more
Them beans make me roll that drink made me slow
I'm toting the pole and I'm f*ckin your hoe
Backwoods full of dro, I'm right from the go
My niggas don't fold they tell me go harder I do it some more
Ralph Lauren my pants and these snakes get no bands
That lil boy run up and he poops in his pants
I might keep it a band, know what I'm sayin?
(You bitch)
These opps go to cops they be snitching a lot
Try bust down my door get a
That boy say huh?
Need the press look away huh?
He ain't solid no way we gon run up with the K
Shoot him down all day pouring drop of the 8
Till I can't see straight sleep it off next day
Back at it can't change better stay in your lane
Have my dog put a bullet to your brain
Ya we never ever change with gang ya I hang
With my brothers everyday and we runnin propane
And we smokin on stank got a bang and some change
But I'll never be a stain run up on me get bang
Put some bullets to your brain
Leave you slain in the rain imma cope with some fame
But I'll never be a snake and I'll never talk to jakes
(Never)
Niggas be some fakes
Stay in your lane get the f*ck up out my way
Cuz I'm coming with the K look away broad day
And we runnin to the safe and we runnin to the bank
Lil Pablo and Birdy gettin paper everyday
Pills and loud roll our way
Blow it down I can't wait
Pull us over it's a chase
Mad up in my draws
Put it out now we safe
I cut the girl off
In the way of the cake
I don't want the sex
I just came for the head
I left that man slumped
Tools in my tool shed
Tools in my shed ya I learned it from Rihad
Was gone for a minute but it wasn't all that bad
I told you all before them niggas always off the twack
But they locked me up for flats and I'm never goin back
My lyrics got a meaning but that sober shit was wack
Ya I'm back and I'm better ya that shit just be some facts
Imma ride to the top
No we cannot be stopped
I don't play about the fam
Got my hands all in them grams
And I'm run-in through these bands
Threw about a hundred K in the lamb
Post up selling them drugs with my mans
A rapper with the fame
No we cannot be stopped
I don't play about the fam
Got my hands all in them grams
And I'm run-in through these bands
Threw about a hundred K in the lamb
Post up selling them drugs with my mans
A rapper with the fame
(Look) Imma ride to the top
All my niggas can't be stopped
And we always sipping drop
And we pulling on your block
And the goofies catch the mop
Drugs always in the socks
And I never talk to cops
No I never talk to cops (Nah)
Escobar up on this track with Jack
That's Birdy to you he might get your ass clapped
For the sack for the bag and we run up with the Mac
And we cooling at the cab that's a bean that's a trap
Put my team on the map no they'll never send me back
To the jack that was wack niggas always off the twack
They try to send me back imma spazz on they ass
I really miss the fam I can never go back
Smokin on the pack ya we really blow that
We gon pull up to your crib where we know you stay at
If you talking slick we gon kick in your door
K's in your fist nobody move hit the floor
Right to the safe, no we don't play
Back to the trap, bitch gangway
Roll up the wood smoke it straight to the face
Then match that shit all day
They saw me pull up in the 5-Series Bimmer
I hopped out the whip and you know I got heaters
I can't wife that bitch cuz I know she a cheater
I can't wife that thot cuz I know she an eater
I know she an eater, I know she a cheater
She f*cked on my bros and I told her I'll leave her
They call me young skeeter
I bust on her lip like I bust on my heater
My wood in her mouth so I call her young beaver
Lil Murphy will be here Lil Murphy a skeever
The whole pack of boys ya we told em to leave her
This new bitch she bad so you might have to peep her
She told me go deeper I'm smokin the reefer
That pineapple Fanta go straight by the liter
That bitch she a hoe so I do not believe her
(Nah, never)
Get bags for the low, get packs for the low
Escobario gang we be right on the floor
We busting your door, get fun like a snow
I pop me a xan I might buy me 3 more
Them beans make me roll that drink made me slow
I'm toting the pole and I'm f*ckin your hoe
Backwoods full of dro, I'm right from the go
My niggas don't fold they tell me go harder I do it some more
Ralph Lauren my pants and these snakes get no bands
That lil boy run up and he poops in his pants
I might keep it a band, know what I'm sayin?
(You bitch)
These opps go to cops they be snitching a lot
Try bust down my door get a
That boy say huh?
Need the press look away huh?
He ain't solid no way we gon run up with the K
Shoot him down all day pouring drop of the 8
Till I can't see straight sleep it off next day
Back at it can't change better stay in your lane
Have my dog put a bullet to your brain
Ya we never ever change with gang ya I hang
With my brothers everyday and we runnin propane
And we smokin on stank got a bang and some change
But I'll never be a stain run up on me get bang
Put some bullets to your brain
Leave you slain in the rain imma cope with some fame
But I'll never be a snake and I'll never talk to jakes
(Never)
Niggas be some fakes
Stay in your lane get the f*ck up out my way
Cuz I'm coming with the K look away broad day
And we runnin to the safe and we runnin to the bank
Lil Pablo and Birdy gettin paper everyday
Pills and loud roll our way
Blow it down I can't wait
Pull us over it's a chase
Mad up in my draws
Put it out now we safe
I cut the girl off
In the way of the cake
I don't want the sex
I just came for the head
I left that man slumped
Tools in my tool shed
Tools in my shed ya I learned it from Rihad
Was gone for a minute but it wasn't all that bad
I told you all before them niggas always off the twack
But they locked me up for flats and I'm never goin back
My lyrics got a meaning but that sober shit was wack
Ya I'm back and I'm better ya that shit just be some facts
Imma ride to the top
No we cannot be stopped
I don't play about the fam
Got my hands all in them grams
And I'm run-in through these bands
Threw about a hundred K in the lamb
Post up selling them drugs with my mans
A rapper with the fame
Writer: Jack McCoy, Khalid Cowman
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid