Spike Lee Lyrics by Key Glock is a Newly released English song. Spike Lee Lyrics are penned by Key Glock, Blazerfxme & AIMONMYNECK while the song is produced by Blazerfxme & AIMONMYNECK. The song was published on November 17, 2022.
Spike Lee Song Details:
| Song: | Spike Lee |
| Singer(s): | Key Glock |
| Produced by: | Blazerfxme & AIMONMYNECK |
| Written by: | Key Glock, Blazerfxme & AIMONMYNECK |
| Label: | Paper Route Empire |
Spike Lee Lyrics
AIMONMYNECK at it again
Blazer outta spaceship
G-Lock
Yeah
Yeah
Ayy, Chrome Heart frames on
My face like Spike Lee (Spike Lee)
Six figures sittin’ on a n!igga white tee
Screamin’, “MOB,” these hoes
Don’t excite me (Excite me)
I been playin’ with them M’s since nineteen
Racks too big, so I barely wear tight jeans (Racks)
She like, “Boy, you geeked up,” b!tch, I might be (Yeah)
Nine millimeter and I squeeze it like a Hi-C (Baow)
Talk too much shit, yeah, that’s why they don’t like me
Chromе Heart frames on my face likе Spike Lee
Six figures worth of diamonds sittin’ on my white tee
Screamin’, “MOB,” these hoes don’t excite me
Young n!gga playin’ with them M’s since nineteen (Yeah)
Racks too big, so I barely wear tight jeans
Nine millimeter, let it squeeze it like a Hi-C (Baow, baow)
Talk too much shit, that’s why they don’t like me
I pop too much shit, that’s why they don’t like me
Yeah, I’m tryna roll up an opp and put him in the air (Air)
Yeah, if she ain’t right, then the b!tch gettin’ left
My n!gga got caught with some bales, made his bail (Bail)
Look at my left wrist, this b!tch cold as hell (Phew)
Yeah, I mean cold as ice
One in the head, you better think twice
N!ggas be switchin’, I can’t leave my pipe (Pipe)
These n!ggas be switchin’, I can’t leave without it
These niggas some b!tches, these n!ggas be sour
I’ma go get it, I gotta go get it, on my road to riches,
These n!ggas some clowns (Phew, phew)
The Glock came with switches, the
Maybach got switches the way this
B!tch bouncin’ up and off the ground
I’ma kill a fu*k n!gga whenever I see him,
just tell mama ‘nem hold it down (Yeah)
Since I was six, I was man of the house (House)
Ten years later, playing ’round with a pound
Ayy, I didn’t play then and I don’t play now (Now)
Can’t name one n!gga touched me
In a two-seater with a whole hundred rounds (Rounds)
Cap, you ain’t never ever seen a hundred pounds
Yeah, I used to serve my uncle grams
Auntie talking ’bout, “Do the right thing”
Chrome Heart frames on my face like Spike Lee (Yeah)
Six figures sittin’ on a n!gga white tee
Screamin’, “MOB,” these hoes don’t excite me (Excite me)
I been playin’ with them M’s since nineteen
Racks too big, so I barely wear tight jeans (Tight jeans)
She like, “Boy, you geeked up,” b!tch, I might be
Nine millimeter and I squeeze it like a Hi-C (Hi-C)
Talk too much shit, yeah, that’s why they don’t like me
Ayy, two twin Glocks on me like I’m a Pisces
Gucci with the J’s, ayy, you know I’m not a hypebeast (Uh-uh)
N!ggas ain’t really on shit, just typing
Dog-ass n!gga, I be runnin’ with some hyenas
Ayy, n!ggas ain’t really on shit, just typin’
Dog-ass n!gga, I be hangin’ with some hyenas
I made it off the block, then made a couple million,
Then got me a spot out there by the white people (Yeah)
Just fu*ked around, spilled some Wock’ on
My wife beater (Wock’, Wock’)
Left wrist like Ike, right wrist like Tina
Talk to therapists, I like money, I don’t like people
Ridin’ in the AMG Benz, I don’t like beamer
Skeleton AP, b!tch, I’m the reaper
Stay fresh to death, yeah, this young n!gga lethal
I got that bag, yeah, that bag, I’ma keep it
And I got it on me, this shit not a secret
Chrome Heart frames on my face like Spike Lee (Spike Lee)
Six figures sittin’ on a n!gga white tee
Screamin’, “MOB,” these hoes don’t excite me (Excite me)
I been playin’ with them M’s since nineteen
Racks too big, so I barely wear tight jeans (Tight jeans)
She like, “Boy, you geeked up,” b!tch, I might be
Nine millimeter and I squeeze it like a Hi-C
Talk too much shit, yeah, that’s why they don’t like me
Chrome Heart frames on my face like Spike Lee (Yeah)
Six figures sittin’ on a n!gga white tee
Screamin’, “MOB,” these hoes don’t excite me (Excite me)
I been playin’ with them M’s since nineteen
Racks too big, so I barely wear tight jeans (Tight jeans)
She like, “Boy, you geeked up,” b!tch, I might be
Nine millimeter and I squeeze it like a Hi-C (Hi-C)
Talk too much shit, yeah, that’s why they don’t like me