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Tory Lanez - The New Toronto 3 Album Lyrics



Tory Lanez - The New Toronto 3 Lyrics






Pricey and Spicy

Its been way too long
My stomach touching
I know I gotta get right
'Cause the summer coming
Talk to me nicely
Talk to me nicely
LoneStone

Whipping up dope
Back on road
Picking up paper
Dippin' in the stash
Getting to the cash
Shooters on go
Shooters on go
Talk to me nicely
When I pull up, I'm stunting
I'm talking spicy
New Givenchy and Saint Laurent, this shit pricey
I give the hood motivation 'cause this shit pricey
'Cause this shit pricey
Whoa!

Most of my niggas on fed time
Deep in there, doing the dead time
We in here putting a red line
On niggas that's thinking its their time
Put my dawg on to the whole lick
He made a hundred off a head line
Brrrrt, shhh, bow!
Putting these pussy niggas on a bed time
Come again
I'm pulling up in a Cullinan
With all of this money I'm brushing my thumb against
Due to the plug, I'll shoot if you run again
I'm bout to spazz and dumb again
Bitch, we got another one again
I was down and now I'm up again
They don't know what I was up against
Trap flow on the sofa
Down bad, that was every night
White rice with the ketchup on it
Corn beef with the yellow rice
Trap nights, tryna make it out
Headshots, we done paid 'em out
When you see the nigga, lay 'em out
We about to see what they about
Whoa!
They don't spark no fear
Pussy nigga, we can play it out
You know its dark out here
And the sticks, niggas can't play without
Hit a lick, shoot a nigga, change clothes at my baby house
New pay, good work, we won't go another day without
Trap booming
(Woo!)
'Bout to spit a whole baby out
Shooter 'bout to throw a 80 out
Make you wish you never played me out
(Hey!)
Aye lil' bih my trap booming
Got my bitch like katsumi
Got 2 sticks, I'm that goonie
(Hhhhddddddd)

Whipping up dope
Back on road
Picking up paper
Dippin' in the stash
Getting to the cash
Shooters on go
Shooters on go
Talk to me nicely
When I pull, up I'm stunting
I'm talking spicy
New Givenchy and Saint Laurent, this shit pricey
I give the hood motivation 'cause this shit pricey
'Cause this shit pricey
Whoa!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




The Coldest Playboy

Froze hearted
She left me out for dead
They left me out for dead
Just like my mama told me
I'm back on road
I'm like f*ck a friendship
That's a costly pleasure
I can't afford no homies
Niggas plotted on me
Damn near laid on me
I was begging them for my shot and these niggas played on me
I'm back on road
Telling them wait on it
I call the shots now
And I make the plays on it

Lied to my bitch so much I'm starting to believe it
I done bought her one Chanel and she got conceited
In school I was selling dope to students and the teachers
I'm a self made nigga, bitch, you wanna leave then leave me
Got my heart broken, bitch done threw me back in savage mode
If she ever let me f*ck again, it'd be a grab and go
Would have held it down but bitch you got me looking goofy
The way I'm feeling, see your man and might just slap his kufi off
Niggas think I'm wilding, they should see me out in action
Stop sign on my hip for niggas seeing me in traffic
You don't get no points for pulling faggot moves
It's cat and mouse out with this cheese, I call it ratatouille
Watching out for feds I got to keep some dogs with me
Niggas super sneak, they'll lay down and get robbed with you
Used to hit that pot up with that finger roll
Said I used to hit that pot up with that finger roll

Lying to myself so much I'm starting to believe it
I tell her that I'm dipping when we both know I ain't leaving
I tell her that I'm faithful
We both know that I'm cheating
I been keeping this shit a hundred since like '93
Live from the trap and bitch I ain't suppose to be here
I get caught with certain guys and they gone give me three years
Lil' nigga break his arm f*cking with that kick back
Niggas stole our cousin from us now we want our lick back
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daniel Gonzalez, Daystar Peterson, Isom Green
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Stupid Again

I just wanna say from the bottom of me heart
I'd like to take this chance to apologize (fifty seconds now)
To absolutely nobody
The double champ does what the f*ck he wants

Uh, woo, aye, 'bout to go stupid again
She out the roof of the Benz
I'm 'bout to do it to get her
I'ma f*ck two of her friends (aye)
Just made a flip out the wok
F*ck the Frank Mueller
I'll jump out the jeweler again
I f*cked my money up on a re-up
But I got it right back and I blew it again (bitch, ah, woo)

Uh, aye, pack full of bricks
Back selling nicks like Ewing again
Trap ain't bump like this since '06
Soulja Boy shit, start you'ing again (ah, you)
Clear it out
Grrt, stick 'em
Air it out
Brrt, flip 'em
Whereabouts?
I ain't never 'bout to give 'em
Fair amounts?
I ain't never finna hit 'em with
Tripling and double up the stash
Quarter brick, another half
And I got another twenty on the vigilant
Spatula flipping it, a caddie from the kitchen
I would hustle 'til the car came with another brick in it
Crib came with another bitch in it
If you ain't getting litty with the shitty
I'ma put another bitch in it
Bitch better hit me with "D-Troat" (oh)
And no I ain't talking about Michigan (woo-hoo)
Aye, oh, uh, damn, shit
I'm going stupid and shit (woo)
She played the flute with my dick, wrist sick
I got the flu on a bitch (woo)
I play it cool on a bitch
Hit it, stick, that's how I do on ya bitch (ugh)
What I'ma do in this bitch?
Pussy was great, flew out and flew in this bitch (they're great)
.40 it's shining and shining
Way in the hills I'm high in the climate
Niggas is tricking and niggas is simpin'
Paying for heels and wining and dining
Jewish lawyer's on the phone call
I said I'ma sign that lil' shit when I sign it
I got these Benjamin Frank on my body
Ain't finna f*ck if that shit ain't exotic
(Woo) ten trap phones 'cause the bitch keep on calling (calling)
Sleeping on the floor, I been scamming getting it all in (all in)
Do the money dance when the money fall (when the money fall)
Nigga f*ck my ex, I'm un-involved
You could suck my dick and lick a nut too (woo)
Yeah, you don't like me nigga, f*ck you, f*ck you, f*ck you
(F*ck you nigga)

Damn, he running through all this paper
That's what I do to a hater
Don't touch two things
My hair and my paper (woo)
Passing that bitch and she hot
Pass her like hot potato
I grind, I skate her (uh)
If she look good, I might date her
Pussy was good and I ate her
Lil' bitch I'm major (woo)

Wait, hold the f*ck up, hold the f*ck up, hold up
So we both at the function, you know what I'm sayin'?
You pull up with ya bitch in a 458
I pull up with my bitch in a 488
You pull up beside my shit like
"Yo, what's the difference between my 458 and your 488?"
It's 'bout like eighty to a hundred thousand cocksucker, beat it

Woo, aye, 'bout to go stupid again
She out the roof of the Benz
I'm 'bout to do it to get her
I'ma f*ck two of her friends
Just made a flip out the wok
F*ck the Frank Mueller
I'll jump out the jeweler again
I f*cked my money up on a re-up
But I got it right back and I blew it again

Ah-ha-ha
And we don't wanna hear no sucker shit after this shit either, nigga
Know what I'm sayin'?
Oh, you worried about your bitch?
Yeah, yeah she's here
Namsayin'?
Oui-oui, parlez-vous français and all that good shit
Straight off the run way in Paris nigga
I could give ten f*cks about a bitch (f*cks about a bitch)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daystar Peterson, Jonathan Demario Priester
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




10 Fcks

I could give at least ten f*cks what a bitch say
In that LaFerrari, doing eighty while I switch lanes
I was waiting on ya down at 7-9 and Biscayne
I was f*cking with you now this shit is getting risky

You don't need no help from no one just to come and go fourth
458, falling in it like a golf course
I just wanna love her
But she cost though
Can't believe she got me cuffed up like a cop though
I'm the nigga with the cash out
The .40 stashed out
Girl, I came up from the trap house
I took the fast route
Spending nights all in the bando, I had to stand low
And when I get home, know I still dip in ya shit commando
I'm at the spot, I got you teasing
And living reason
Of why I can't get up and leave it
I know I needed it, beautiful
I'll plant a seed in it while I'm deep in it
Ain't no ending, every ending feeling like the beginning (oh, yeah)

I could give at least ten f*cks what a bitch say
In that LaFerrari, doing eighty while I switch lanes
I was waiting on ya down at 7-9 and Biscayne
I was f*cking with you now this shit is getting risky

How long did it take you?
Working night shifts 'til you made a break through
Copping fly shit, now these bitches hate you
Got your own whip, no nigga can play you
And you ride dick just like an animal
Back then I never see you dance before
Then I came in with some bands to blow
Now you said you never had a man before

And when that type of shit come out the bitch face
I can give ten f*cks
I can tell the bitch fake
Judging off a Insta
I just slid up in ya girl DM's with the kiss face
Stupid ass bitch, she tried to put me on a mixtape
She won't get the number, she can hit me on Snap' though
It won't make a difference when I hit it from the back though
If she bad enough I hit it from the front
(Ah, yeah) I give a f*ck what your boyfriend does
I'm a real savage ass nigga in some Chelsea boots
She want a nigga that could beat it when she tells him too
She probably tells you that's the reason that she fell for you
And I know because she tells me too

So, I could give at least ten f*cks what a bitch say
In that LaFerrari, doing eighty while I switch lanes
I was waiting on ya down at 7-9 and Biscayne
I was f*cking with you now this shit is getting risky

I could give at least ten f*cks what a bitch say
In that LaFerrari, doing eighty while I switch lanes
I was waiting on you down at 7-9 and Biscayne
I was f*cking with you, now this shit is getting risky

We don't need to stand in the fire
Ooh
Out on the job it seems
Like my heart is retired
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ben Ufug, Daniel Gonzalez, Daystar Peterson, Mansa Evans, Sterling Purdy
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave, STERLING HAYES PUBLISHING, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Dope Boys Diary

Yeah, nothing bigger than the Umbrella, yeah, yeah
Just gotta feel me nigga (perfect)
It's Tory! (Cannon)

Told my bitch I love her she ain't say it back
My heart I can't play with that
F*ck it that's that, and we made it that
Running through the trap to find my re-up, tryna make it back
BM tripping out, just tryna cop my son his favorite snacks
Love from the crips, bloods, and GD's
Scamming out the bank I made like fifty thou' on TD
In the trap my homeboys' my heart, but shit I gotta move greedy
Got a budget for the lawyer in case I lose with this PD (perfect)
'Cause we tryna get more than rich, f*ck the fame and all the glitz
My bitch ain't had tits, so I bought her tits
I'm a little older so I mold her 'til I taught the bitch
Boy, I would have sworn that she was loyal 'til I caught the bitch
I won't trust a soul
It's just me and my pole playing position on that road
Watching jack boys close, guns closer than the sirens
See if them boys try me, bitch, I'm opening the fire
Catching bodies like Corona and the virus, nigga
Weed bought the Rolex, crack bought the bustdown
Trapping did a home run, scamming did a touchdown
Thinking 'bout my son now, know I gotta stay alive
'Cause I done let him down like four times and I can't make it five
Cops from a naked eye, watching in a foreign
But we moving neat the DA can't grant him no warrants (perfect)
The bird man with me like Wayne in New Orleans
Raining and pouring, raging, and warring
Probably lost my bitch to a athlete
F*ck it, I might pull up with another bitch, mad fleet
I remember Crystal dem told me I was mad weak
From that day I never let another bitch embarrass me (perfect)
I had to wear the same drawers
Going out for weeks, a nigga stank, but this shit paid off
Flexing like I owned the rental nigga had to play it off
Hoes I put this dick off in they hole just like I'm playing golf
Anytime I ran up outta work I sold 'em drywall
I was broke and threw it on the scale 'cause I can't eyeball
Homie I just came from being homeless that's a sidebar
That's why with this rap shit I be focused, can't take time off
Boy, I'm not a killer, but don't push me that's on my mama

Got my killers out there swimming in the deep end
Before you knew that nigga drowned 'cause he was deep in
Score board, bitch, we playing on the defense
My little niggas catching bodies every weekend
My little shooter made the movie with the sequence
Play with us and we gon' turn that nigga pretense
In the foreign picked him up from out the precinct
'Cause he gon' still put in that pressure 'til the beef ends

I wanna cheat but I'll probably kill her if she cheat on me
Homicidal thoughts don't mix with G's homie
Plus I be with G's homie, stick hot like 98 degrees homie
Trigger finger itchy like some fleas on me
Sleeping on my nigga's sofa, sleeping on the floor
I couldn't even tell a bitch come over
Now its all Dior all on my body, like my melatonin
Niggas took the stand, I can't believe them boys was telling on me
Street shit is hella phony, yeah
Look in my eyes, you see I'm dodging all the demons
Came a long way, from swiping fraud cards at all the Neiman's (perfect)
I was plotting and scheming, popping bad beaners
Shit, I thought it then dreamed it, turned it to reality
This your fatality
Killing any nigga saying they got the same style as me
I'm the only rapper saying shit with no apology
Pull up, you could holla B
Your favorite rapper shit, just ain't as hot as me, Tory, aye (perfect)

Spitting fire in the booth, Forgiato tires on the coupe
OG's looking at me like they inspired to be me when I aspired to be you
It's crazy but it's true, damn
Yeah, 90310 are running shit, you know what's going on, nigga
Big U, big Umbrella
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daystar Peterson, Donald E. Cannon, James D. Harris, Sean Momberger, Terry Steven Lewis
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Accidents Happen

Baby need shoes
Mama need a house, going through racks again
Baby mama bitching 'bout another bitch and I got her racks again
Caught me down when I was slipping, but I promise I'll never lack again
My shooter trigger finger itchy, nigga, might just hit ya on accident
Reload the strap again
We coming back again
Ya double crossed on a nigga, we hit em and it ain't by accident
Throwing new racks again
Blowing through stacks again
Hella new plaques again
Spitting these facts again
Sipping the dirtiest, baby
The shipment come, we get the earliest, baby
I'ma spend it, I'm courteous baby
The first until the f*cking thirtieth, baby
It ain't a place a nigga can't go
One Umbrella, that's the f*cking gang though
Had to imprint it on the chain though
Switching different whip like I'm Django
I done came up from the sidewalk, now I rap nigga, used to slang dope
From the fist fights to the shootouts in the parking lot and now it's bank roll
Was a broke nigga, now I came up
I don't do this shit to entertain ya
Can't believe I even got this famous
Yesterday I was gripping on a stainless
I was selling dope from out of Popeyes
I was whipping corner counter clockwise
Tryna get the Porsche with the frog eyes
Selling dope a nigga should be top five
Got extended clip inside a Glock .9
It was never times I forgot mine
If a nigga trippin', turn to Columbine
Shooting anybody that the shots find
Niggas say that they deserve my position
But them pussy niggas, they did not grind
If we talking about the shit that separates me and you, nigga it's long line
I done came through, Bentayga Bentley
Never thought that I'd be seeing this when I was young and I was playing Sega Genesis
Pancake seats made at Denny's
That's real nigga shit
We don't pay bitch nigga debt
Bet yo life on the line
'Cause we don't make lil' nigga bets, nah

Look at all this dope (look at all this dope)
It ain't by accident (it ain't by accident)
Bitch nigga, I'm froze (bitch nigga, I'm froze)
It ain't on accident (it ain't by accident)
She gone give me that throat (she gone give me that throat)
It ain't on accident (it ain't by accident)
F*ck nigga, just know (nigga, just know)
Throwing more racks again (throwing more racks)
Blowing through stacks again (stacks)
Bitch I might back the Benz (might back)
It ain't on accident (oh)
Backing that back again (whoa)
I f*cked up my stacks again (whoa)
Nigga get clapped again (brrt)
It ain't on accident

Shitted on 'em, so I know they mad
Cop my freezer from AZ in Rollie bag
Groupied up, we don't care where the police at
And we scoring, f*ck boy, where ya homies at?
Niggas know us, we 'bout it, we love to drill
Some of my youngins be on that, they love the field
And we pull up we blasting that shit for real
Mama said, "It's for nothing, you need to chill"
I'm going off, still on that gang shit
But I told you and lane switch
I catch a lick, it ain't really about shit
We gone spin off the strip and just change whips
Ain't no security with me, we toting like fifty
That's life of the gang slit
But f*ck it, we live how we live and I know what I did
Plus it's too late to change shit (gang-gang, gang-gang)
Ain't no fighting that Glock, we arrange shit
If you wanna meet death, I'll arrange it
In a foreign, I pick up ya main bitch
She was sucking my dick and I came quick
I ain't even go talk on the opps side
Y'all can say what you want but do not slide (y'all not sliding)
I caught him slipping, he ran into Popeyes
Everybody all tough 'til them shots fly (brrt, bap)
Gang

Look at all this dope (look at all this dope)
It ain't by accident (it ain't by accident)
Bitch nigga, I'm froze (bitch nigga, I'm froze)
It ain't on accident (it ain't by accident)
She gone give me that throat (she gone give me that throat)
It ain't on accident (it ain't by accident)
F*ck nigga, just know (nigga, just know)
Throwing more racks again (throwing more racks)
Blowing through stacks again (stacks)
Bitch I might back the Benz (might back)
It ain't on accident (ooh)
Backing that back again (back)
I f*cked up my stacks again (stacks)
Nigga get clapped again (brrt)
It ain't on accident
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Charles Dumazer, Daniel Gonzalez, Daystar Peterson, Tione Jayden Merrit
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Broke in a Minute

Yeah, yo, word to Mazzi, nigga (ah)
F*ck these niggas talkin' 'bout, nigga?
Haha
Yo, when they swing that way to the right
You swing to the left, you heard?

Woo, damn
I ain't been broke in a minute, don't get offended
Tore off the bow in a Bentley, f*cking your ho in her kidney
F*ck up the city, I do not dance, I jiggy
Gun is tucked under this Fendi
I like it, I spend it, I just came right out the jeweler
The ice on my neck and my wrist and my fist, I ain't finished
I was just workin' at Denny's
Came back and counted some millions
I ain't no regular civilian
Red, yellow, green, look like my neck a chameleon
Uh, okay spin it, uh, damn, I ain't been broke in a minute
I hit his bitch, he offended
I'm in Givenchy and Fendi, bitch, let me finish
I crack that Chevy for forty
My scammer busting bottles of the '08
I cannot cuff, shes f*cking on my brozay
I'm just gon' f*ck and treat her like a throwaway

Ooh, damn, I ain't been broke in a minute
I'm at the mall out in Venice
I need it, swiping the digits
Calling up Kelz, he did 250 on biddie
It ain't no biggie, ugh, Moncler kick it
F*cked that lil' bih, made a viddie
She want to leak it, she want to send it
Aye, f*ck that bitch, my face wasn't in it
Damn, bitch do scams off bitty
Bands in my hand look pretty
Hit another band on the gram I'm litty
When I was broke, man, she fronted
But then I got rich and I hit it
Homie, I don't dance, I jiggy
Weed is so strong, I feel like I'm Popeye off the spinach
I cut the corner and bend it
Bitch, I'm a menace like Dennis
Don't sell me pussy, I need a percentage
If you gon' f*ck me, this shit is expensive
Nordstorm Rack, swipe my gifty
Damn, I ain't been broke in a minute

Woo, woo, woo
I ain't been broke in a minute
Damn, woo
I ain't been broke in a minute
Woo, woo, woo
Damn, I ain't been broke in a minute
Woo
Damn, I ain't been broke in a minute, damn
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Anthony Jr. Woart, Daystar Peterson
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




P.A.I.N

Yeah
Shit, I feel this shit in my soul, nigga, like
Got me feelin' this shit
It's time for niggas to start paying me

No license, top down, you still pushing
F*ck a nigga, we slide the block, they still pussy
Twelve watching, but you got kids, you gotta get it
And I gotta put some food up in that kitchen
These niggas can't feel my pain in it
Aye, and all the shit it took a nigga just to get here
Nigga try me, I let it bang on 'em
We came from nothing never thought that we would get here
And my circle is full of made niggas
You don't bring bread to the table then you can't sit here
I know these niggas don't feel my pain nigga, nah, nah
But I promise I'm 'bout to have it rocking this year, uh-huh

Talking packs in diesel, selling that liquid by the liter
I ain't going to school today, my nigga, I got holes in my Adidas
I got stains in most T-shirts and these niggas they used to laugh
But they can't laugh now that that flow come out them speakers
Nigga, nah
And they thought they caught me slipping but I
Turned around and banged on 'em
Turned around and flamed on 'em
Shit just sound insane on it
Icy on my wrist, you know my jeweler go insane on it
Shooters that will kill ya for a chain with the gang on it
You can't feel they pain on it
You can't feel they pain on it
Snatch a nigga soul and his chain in the same moment
My baby crying tears and who the f*ck am I finna blame on it?
So I hit that corner if I die I'll be a stain on it
Know I'm from the block, I swing a OX, I'll do my thang on it
Life is not a game so I ain't got no time to play opponents
Life is not a game so I just hit the block and spray opponents
In the pockets laying on 'em
In the drop I'm waiting on 'em
Selling soda
Mama worried I pay dues baby
Hug the corner, mama worried I made the news baby
Back then did it all for a pair a shoes, baby
Looking back at it I couldn't understand my views, baby
On the come up and I want ice and flashy rings, nigga
Everything we never had as kids drove us insane, nigga
You had it, we had it, but it wasn't the same, nigga
Now imagine niggas having fame, nigga
We was on the train, nigga
Bust down the chain, nigga
Bust down the jewels like we bust down the thang, nigga
Got rid of some niggas, they mood, I couldn't hang with 'em
Smile in my face, but them niggas was hiding hate in 'em (oh no)

Yeah, we was born champions
And we was turned soldiers
Somewhere encaged in a concrete jungle, we all lost touch
Heads to the sky our backs to the wall
Young and not fully prepared to understand the facts of it all
With starvation in our stomachs and concentration in our eyes
You see niggas deprived of a life we thought was perfect
So what that means is every scheme hustle and jug is worth it until we murdered, nigga

No license, top down, you still pushing
F*ck a nigga, we slide the block, they still pussy
Twelve watching, but you got kids, you gotta get it
And I gotta put some food up in that kitchen
These niggas can't feel my pain in it
Aye, and all the shit it took a nigga just to get here
Nigga try me, I let it bang on 'em
We came from nothing never thought that we would get here
And my circle is full of made niggas
You don't bring bread to the table then you can't sit here
I know these niggas don't feel my pain nigga, nah, nah
But I promise I'm 'bout to have it rocking this year, uh-huh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Barrington Wright, Cassius Jay, Daniel Gonzalez, Daystar Peterson, Jamaal Jones, Sarah Abiona Johnson, Thorstein Naesset Borja, Xavier Omar
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Reservoir Media Management, Inc.




Adidas

Yeah, yeah

Dope stash in my Beamer, I can cash out on Adidas
Should I trap? Or should I rap and spend this cash all on a feature?
My niggas is in the field and they adopted so I teach
But I gotta spend this cash all on this motherf*cking re-up
I'm trying to be a leader, but shit, I'm falling in my past
The trap calling for this cash
I scrape the bottom of the stash
Front a nigga one and I compress it, I can stretch that bitch to half
A lot of shit a nigga never had a nigga tryna grab
And R.I.p. My nigga Black, 'cause they done chopped him into pieces
He was trying to duck police's
I was trying to duck the reaper
I was on the block hustling
Just tryna stuff the reefer in the pocket with the nina
Shit, I'm popping with the heater if I need her
I'm in the kitchen baking like Anita
Trying to freak it like Adina, sell and sneak it to a beaner
I was younger, was f*cking up the re-up
Copping sneakers 'cause the O.G.'s never taught me how to be up
I got beat up on them corners but I came back
Trap back, jumping, had it popping on the same track
Lil' mama thugging, got my name as a face tat
Shit, you gotta face facts
It's some real niggas in this shit you can't replace that
Same block, same strap
Shoot a nigga face back
Leave his head in his legs waist in his wave cap
Cock the K back, was blowing blades where his braids at
Cock the K back, had so much pain so I stained that
Mama cried tears, we did bids throughout the years
I had a couple niggas die and I'm just wishing you was here
But shit it's clear, I'm riding with my pistol like a piston through the fear
And let them niggas know I'm here
I promise when I die they'll celebrate me like I'm Pac
It'll be because I reach my goal, not lcause I sold this rock
Any nigga that try too hate me, promise dog, they gon' get shot
I'm from the Dot
And I got some niggas that's still down to knock yo top
I put this on my baby
This being broke shit done drove me crazy
All my friends done got ghost and went Swayze
My number one question now is, "Lord, am I gone make it?"
'Cause it's times I feel alone and just so hopeless on this pavement
I tried to work a nine to five but I can't wait for payment
Shit, that shit just take too long and plus the feeling so complacent
But I look at that road, and it's like my goals are so adjacent
The devil on my shoulder, it's getting colder in this basement
I got killers on the left of me drug dealers on my right
To the world they look scary, but I knew these niggas all my life
And now my lil' nigga scamming, he tryna cop it off a swipe
I remember different nights
Ducking cops and running flights of stairs
Niggas getting scared but pussy boy, that ain't my type
I threw it up with niggas pass my weight and twice my height
Ever sat up in that dark place, just tryna find the light?
I can't even trust myself, my left hand don't know my right
I can put this on my dead mama
Marijuana sales bought this Ferragamo
Out of state licks, still got the flicks of Moncler on me
Bitch, I'm all smiles like the logo of the Murakami
Niggas can't stop me, now they fearing on me
Only thing I fear is God
I could never fear the odds
Eric committing a suicide the only time you seen the tears fall
Shot my nigga Netsa, in his head they tried to clear 'em off
Then my cousin Dave got shot in front of grandmas
I been in them shootouts in the parking lots and stand offs
Real plugs where I'm from, no niggas never ran off
Give it to my lil' nigga, pass it by the hand off
Had to sell him game you gotta pass and put yo man on

'Cause even if I
Even if I don't get it
Then I might die trying
'Cause I was born broke, but I'ma die rich
Even if I
If I never get it
I'll still have this dope stash
When I blow past
Selling snow like it's winter in the forecast
I gotta make it
I gotta make it
Said, I gotta make it
And if they won't give it to me, I'm gone take it
Oh, I gotta make it
I gotta make it
And if they won't give it to me I'm gone take it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Cooper McGill, Daniel Gonzalez, Daystar Peterson, Sterling Purdy, Johann Chavez, Justin Zim
Copyright: Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc., Songtrust Ave, STERLING HAYES PUBLISHING, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Who Needs Love

Who needs love? (Uh, yeah)
Yeah, who needs love? Ayy

When I got these diamond VVSs on my neckpiece
Big pointers all in my bezel, call it my bestie
I spent a hundred and thou' and all countin'
Money make me happy every time I count it
Who needs love when I come around flexin'?
I don't need no lovin' from any one of my exes
I don't need no stressin', phone call, textin'
Don't kiss me, bitch, kiss my necklace

Who needs love? Ayy
Baby, who needs love? Ayy

I got twenty-twenty vision when I see her
Pulled up in the Lamb', should've pulled up in the BM
Rippers in my denim 'cause a young nigga was flexin'
And if we end it early, baby girl, then it was destined
I even had to stop, answerin' your calls
A nigga had you trappin' with the scammers and the dawgs
Drivin' over border with the hammers in the car
When the cops pulled me over, would've hand it to my dawgs
I mean, who needs love with these hammers in my fists?
And she gon' f*ck me over, give a damn about a bitch
Debit, credit cards on me, slammin' in this bitch
Don't wanna take her back, she did the damage in this bitch
Tell me, who needs love?

Who needs love? (Uh, yeah)
Yeah, who needs love? Ayy

When I got these diamond VVSs on my neckpiece
Big pointers all in my bezel, call it my bestie
I spent a hundred and thou' and all countin'
Money make me happy every time I count it
Who needs love when I come around flexin'?
I don't need no lovin' from any one of my exes
I don't need no stressin', phone call, textin'
Don't kiss me, bitch, kiss my necklace

Who needs love? Ayy
Baby, who needs love? Ayy

I said, I was doin' wrong back when you was livin' right
Cool a couple milli' sittin' on me on the flight, ayy
Tryna get me back and f*ckin' niggas out of spite
And you sittin' on that nigga dick when it don't sit right with ya
Had to tell her, look here though
You could f*ck a thousand niggas, only thing that's finna be hurt is your pussy, ho
And if I get at it, baby girl, you know I'm superstar status
Don't you ever try to play me like a rookie, though
Big, big dreams got you sittin' in a mansion
Laid up in my covers while you thinkin' 'bout expansion
Can't believe you even f*cked that nigga, he a random
Had me embarrassed to tell the story to the mandem
Shawty, I ain't worried 'bout no nigga drip, I'm drippin' the best
The Cullinan seats orange, 'cause it's drippin' Hermes
No matter what she tellin' you, f*ck, I dicked her the best
F*ck the drama, I put dick in her chest, yes

'Cause when I got these diamond VVSs on my neckpiece
Big pointers all in my bezel, call it my bestie
I spent a hundred and thou' and all countin'
Money make me happy every time I count it
Who needs love when I come around flexin'?
I don't need no lovin' from any one of my exes
I don't need no stressin', phone call, textin'
Don't kiss me, bitch, kiss my necklace

Who needs love? Ayy
Baby, who needs love?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alvin Santamaria, Barrington Wright, Daniel Gonzalez, Daystar Peterson, Keonbin Lee, Sarah J.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, The Administration MP, Inc., Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Do the Most

(Foot on necks)
Yeah, yeah
Ay, ay, ay

I said word to my ex, I might never fall in love again (what?)
Chase nothin' but the liquor and the cup again (uh)
I did a show, I'm leaving with a hunnid bands
And I ain't Stunna, Stunna, St-Stunna man
Yeah, I got two birds (brrrt) like Stunna man
Hotline bling (brrrt) that's a hunnid bands
In the night club, they be like, "You done it, man" (oh, yeah)
In the night, chain lookin like "Duh, duh, duh, dunna, duh"
Got the house party all tilted (it's lit)
I f*ck that girl, said, f*ck my girl, I feel guilty
Gotta feel me (oh, yeah)
I'm filthy (oh, yeah)
I call a lot women bae but you my real bae
She got that ice cream, she supersize it, nigga
Swimming in it, feelin' like a scuba diver, nigga
Say you got my point, this besides it, nigga
You can't even sit that ass beside a nigga, whoa (go)
I'm in your city on some hot shit
I f*ck her, her, her, I'm on some thot shit
My outfit is brazy, this shit a mosh pit
And you all hatin' ass niggas, get off my dick
Ay, I do my own stunts
And I ain't passing shit
I smoke my own blunts
You think lil' mama ain't into to me, then you on somethin'
Stack out and throw somethin'
Girl, let it poke some
Lil' Tory

Ay, everybody lit, take a toast (take a toast)
I feel alive when I'm goin' ghost (goin' ghost)
I gotta keep my niggas real close (real close)
'Cause if I don't, they gon' do the most (oh, yeah)
Everybody lit, take a toast (take a toast)
I feel alive when I'm goin' ghost (goin' ghost)
I gotta keep my niggas real close (real close)
'Cause if I don't, they gon' do the most

Play with me wrong, shit, I might f*ck it now
You looking good in them jeans, shit, I might touch it now
Shit, I had this one chick back in the day, she tried put me out
I put her on knees, told her put in her mouth
I got a fresh outfit and I must say
When I step in this bitch, don't touch me
When I'm starin' in the mirror, don't be rushing my shit
See my hairline fresh, don't be touching my shit
'Cause I'ma get (get) my (my) ex (ex) bitch (bitch) back (back)
Have her on some, "How you got it like that?"
From the air, girl, you see me everywhere
I'm a boss, throwing salt, kill a snail, not a player
One umbrella on my underwear
Somebody call for the sauce, I appear
In the club, shawty standing right here
Like Chingy, I hit it right there and right there and right there, ay

Everybody lit, take a toast (take a toast)
I feel alive when I'm goin' ghost (goin' ghost)
I gotta keep my niggas real close (real close)
'Cause if I don't, they gon' do the most (oh, yeah)
Everybody lit, take a toast (take a toast)
I feel alive when I'm goin' ghost (goin' ghost)
I gotta keep my niggas real close (real close)
'Cause if I don't, they gon' do the most
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daystar Peterson, Christopher Washington, Ronald Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC




Penthouse Red

Places that you could
Wanna be cooped up
I know the truth, ya
Like how I move, huh
You got ya time tied
Gotta divine vibe
Let's go from Hennessy to red and white wine vibes

See you require time
You need some quiet time
No, you can't f*ck no one that f*ck you on they side time
They trying to hide love
Girl, I provide mine
I know the guidelines that I gotta abide by
Old Miami nights I'm in the Benz, Ocean Drive prime
Trying to never let you in again but you gone slide by
Always give me reason in the seasons where I need ya
Things you say in public, I would rather keep in secret, but
You know that I love all of that ignorant shit you talking
Dick you down in your apartment
You know everything about it like its your store and your department
We be going off too often
I be going so hard that I'm exhausted
Damn, we need to lay our feet up
Laid up on my chest while I confess that you be moving way too fast to keep up
When you talk in body language, you don't have to speak up
If you would have kept this shit a hundred, I wouldn't have had to creep up
Oh no, no

Do me how you do me
You gon' do you and I'ma do me
Shorty we been in a hot pursuit
You been doing you I think it's time that I do me

Do me how you do me
You gon' do you and I'ma do me
Shorty we been in a hot pursuit
You been doing you I think it's time that I do me

Places that you should
Never be stooped up
You seem to find yourself whenever you get liquor drunk and juiced up
I been at a full stop trying to get you moved up
I ain't trying to wait, no
You know how a player go
I got certain feelings for ya
I ain't trying to say it though
Something about the body language that your speaking
S-T-O-P the games, let that freak shit begin
Work got you busy on the weekdays
So I'm in a deep phase
Up until that weekend begin
Know yo shit a movie so I'm sneaking, peeking
Tell your nigga sue me, he be reaching, reaching
I don't know your mixture
I got cold intentions
When I'm scrolling through the 'Gram
You see me going through your pictures
I be going through these phases, you going through these niggas
Never figured you'd be dogging me like I be dogging bitches
Shit is ironic isn't it?

Aye, do me how you do me
You gon' do you and I'ma do me
Shorty we been in a hot pursuit
You been doing you I think it's time that I do me

Do me how you do me
You gon' do you and I'ma do me
Shorty we been in a hot pursuit
You been doing you I think it's time that I do me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daniel Gonzalez, Daystar Peterson, Kyle Coleman, Sergio Romero
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Letter to the City 2

(C-Sick)

Uh, soon as you here this verse, I'm out the record deal
They cheated twelve albums, four years, and that's a record still
Head to the sky like Emmet Till off the stepping wheel
And minus all the sex appeal, your boy about to flex for real
Rolls Royce Cullinan, four-doors 'cause my son in it
I'm driving down the garden to Toronto home city
With two tings that I partnered up, playing putter and possum
Then I puff with my girls like Buttercup with a Blossom
Excessive needs for pussy, power, and SUV's
That drop us to the back-door entrances, stress relief
And no less indeed, the shooters is pressing like refugees
And the fee at the entrance way too high just to let 'em free
What can't alarm me is whose crew's finna harm me
My little dudes move like new recruits in the army
And all they see is food, shrimp, scallops, and calamari
I gallivant at a Barbie while they gather back at your party, uh
Should let the women I f*ck raw an unprotected
Like f*ck if you get pregnant, I'll keep it
Keep a secret only in town for a weekend
I'm dating women knowing I'm cheating for foreign reasoning
F*ck y'all niggas throwing y'all beef in
I'm going vegan with Heaven's timing
Shooting and set designing
Then moving like I sold ten million records in record timing
I did, then I kept on climbing
I started at ninety and ran the plays and private agendas
Tryna get fly but niggas tried and I kindly reject 'em
They ran my name through the mud, but I'm finally respected
This here out of the plan, this more of a God purpose
This here out of my hands, this'll never feel like 2012
Signing to Sean Kingston for clout and advance
I'm still proud of that man, know I fell out from his hands
He didn't do me worse than, and all of his friends
Them niggas out of this world, they came out of the sands
I'm still 'bout it my mans, thought this shit was mad love
'Til I seen my album advance
They took radio from me, I stayed proud of my stance
I kept slapping the world with hits like I powdered my hands
I would've been ten times bigger if
Wasn't being bitter and doubted my chance
Threatening to shelf my whole career for five years
As if he wasn't taking money from out my advance
I got out by a chance
Them nights was like the Superbowl watching out from the stands
God don't make things happen by chance
And it's some things you gon' have to experience
I'm dapping up the board of office and passing the clearance
He always makes a corny joke 'bout my rapper appearance
Then I do a fake laugh that he catches like pass interference
I fly back into Paris, blunt smoke, ash on my terrace
My competition's just an empty ass class full of chairs
Talking to myself, it's lonely minus the fact that I'm here
I'm tryna see all of my niggas blossom
Mariah selling shows, Coachella her first year
And minus all the times we disagree, I'm still here
Pierre, Papi you're 'bout to be a whole millionaire
Davo coming out the cut with a chick with Sicilian hair
Mansa dropping next month, you niggas should be in fear
Watching Melli do the numbers like she running track and field
Plus we just got Kaash in here
And it's all Umbrella army, I'm full attack mode for real
New Toronto 3, I'll leave it at that
And ain't nobody f*cking with me, folk, I'll keep it at that, yeah
The next move is going fully independent
And any label offer under a hundred mil' is just offensive, I promise
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Charles Walter Dumazer, Daystar Peterson
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Back in Business

Mama told me that I'd get rich up off these melodies
Instead I'm gettin' this bread
And I put it all on my shooters and they felonies
F*ck is you tellin' me?

All hail, baby, we back in business (uh)
We out here talkin' like we back in business (aye)
All hail, bitch, we back in business
Back in business all hail, baby (aye)

My life a Scorsese
I'm whippin' four more (four)
Until it's full, baby
We strappin' 'em all, baby (strappin' it up)
We packin' 'em tall, baby (packin' it up)
Go out to war, baby
It's one for all, baby (grrt)
It's all hail 'cause we back in business
Off in this kitchen cookin', flippin' like I'm back in Denny's
And all hail 'cause we comin' with them Mac 11s
These niggas snitch, we clap the witness, traffic where we catch him (yeah, yeah)
Even my city left me out for dead, like I was baby Jesus (like I was baby)
They put me in that manger (I be in)
I found my way to Egypt (I found my way)
I might hit Parma
Hit up the Jane too (the Jane too)
My bitch from Rexdale (my bitch from Rex)
She in the lane too (she in the lane too)
I'm talking honor
F*ck is your loyalty, nigga? (Loyalty)
Niggas switched up and shitted, where was yo loyalty nigga?
When they shitted, I told them, I'll soon be royalty nigga
Hit the block on a four and they tried to foil me nigga
Niggas talking on statements 'til they know that it's over
I'll be damned if this pussy nigga named in my disclosure
Legal aide is my lawyer
Can't get out by the mornin'
It's like I'm stressin' for dead
All this stress on my head, whoa, whoa

All hail, baby, we back in business (uh)
We out here talkin' like we back in business (aye)
All hail, bitch, we back in business
Back in business all hail, baby
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daniel Gonzalez, Daystar Peterson
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




D.N.D

Grrat, head crack

Do not disturb me
Know you thirsty ass bitches gon' be thirsty
Know you hating ass niggas wanna murk me
All of my exes don't deserve me
Curve them same way them bitches curved me

Red and purple Vince Carter on the jersey
Keep a bad lil' mamacita looking curvy
My .40 Glock Milly rocking, it's moving sturdy
If she ain't f*cking me proper, I do her dirty
'Bout to f*ck this older chick, she in her thirties
Keep an FN and a stick for every journey
You want this dick, lil' mama, you gotta earn it
Phone airplane mode
Don't disturb me
Walk in Birkin and I'm telling my lil' bitch to ball
All that low money budget shit turn my bitches off
She gotta taste of the sauce, look how it drip baby
She see a young nigga balling

Do not disturb me
Know you thirsty ass bitches gon' be thirsty
Know you hating ass niggas wanna murk me
All of my exes don't deserve me
Curve them same way them bitches curved me

And you heard me
Took my style and now you need to reimburse me
I see the police
They wanna serve me
But none of that f*ck shit don't concern me, go head
Drop that ass
Pop the tag
The bag Chanel
She got to brag
She got a man
She cuffed, my bad
She let me touch it
Latoya Luckett
Aye, Lambo doors, gave 'em no mercy
She don't smoke with me, but she take a perky
I'm bout to wax lil' mama, my vision blurry
Phone airplane mode

Do not disturb me
Know you thirsty ass bitches gon' be thirsty
Know you hating ass niggas wanna murk me
All of my exes don't deserve me
Curve them same way them bitches curved me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daystar Peterson, Michael Hernandez
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.




MSG 4 GODS CHILDREN

90's televisions that raised me
Made me feel like it was gravy and wasn't crazy
Now a days the kids all lazy, the pics all crazy
In the land doing drugs and busting clips off safety
I be crying to the Lord in the times that I feel unsure
Wisdom of the scriptures, like carving lines in a sword
I pray we stick together like all the vines on a wall
Climbing until we fall and driving until we stall
Designer clothes got us here dying in every store
Buying it when we're poor, knowing this shit a hassle
And money that should be going to owning bigger castles
And still we dibble dabble and try to find it abroad
Living life in the fog, our eyes covered
With all this self inflicted danger, we could die from it
I'm running through the game just tryna get some ties from it
I was buggin' the times that I said that I love it
Because I grew to love my self and who hovers above me
And plus my family and my brothers who love me
This is God purpose
I know the devil wanna scratch me off surface
But every attempt he trying is worthless
That boy will never get me
Or represent me, fall out and get to resent me
I'm part of Jehovah army, I know exactly who sent me
And I don't mean to sound like I'm preaching you down
Disregard my past ways, this what I'm teaching you now
Words that I should have been spoke, I'ma speak 'em up now
Niggas try to ether my style while keeping me down
I can tell you, so many people wanna find reasons for living
Wanna be a helping hand but don't know how to give it
I told 'em, fall all on your knees, repent for yo evil deeds
Ask God to show you, but, nigga, actually seek
Mean it when you say it, don't pray it because I told you
Do it for the need of him to show you
I'm telling y'all, I ain't never ever felt better dog
Bentley pulling off, Bentayga still smelling off, yeah
I love my haters when they jealous dog, uh
'Cause all that I can do is flourish dog
Yeah, Daystar
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Barrington Wright, Dave Hall, Daystar Peterson, Elias Sticken, Erik Milteer, Michael Hernandez, Patrice Rushen
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Back to: Tory Lanez


The New Toronto 3 is a commercial mixtape by Canadian rapper Tory Lanez. It was released on April 10, 2020 by Interscope Records. It serves as his final release with Interscope, and the third installment in the New Toronto series. The New Toronto 3 follows four months after Lanez's prior release Chixtape 5, released as an album in a series of mixtapes. The production on the mixtape was handled by multiple producers including Foreign Teck, Play Picasso, Supah Mario, Cassius Jay, Don Cannon and C-Sick among others. The mixtape also features guest appearances by Mansa and Lil Tjay.

The New Toronto 3 was supported by three singles: "Broke in a Minute", "Do the Most" and "Who Needs Love". The mixtape received positive reviews from music critics and was a commercial success. It debuted at number two on the US Billboard 200 chart, earning 64,000 album-equivalent units in its first week.
Performed By: Tory Lanez
Genre(s): Hip,
Length: 44:14
Released: April 10th, 2020
Year: 2020

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