Where Ya Get Ya Coke From? Lyrics by JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown is a newly released English song produced by JPEGMAFIA. The latest song Where Ya Get Ya Coke From? lyrics are written by JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown. The song was published on 24th March 2023.
Where Ya Get Ya Coke From? Song Details:
Song: | Where Ya Get Ya Coke From? |
Singer(s): | JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown |
Produced by: | JPEGMAFIA |
Written by: | JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown |
Label(©): | Warp |
Where Ya Get Ya Coke From? Lyrics
(I’ve named this one JPEG)
Ok, my bitch, she bad
She got me out my zone
I make her shake that ass
This house is not a home
I double fist the cash
Don’t need no payday loan
They be like “Bitch, who that?”
I got top on the phone
.45 in the flo’ seat
And if you know, then you know, you don’t know me
I’m waiting for my opps to come, they better show me
And I talk how I talk, bitch blow me, woo!
Fuck you talking about
Oh, let’s go
Get money, nigga
The bands
I need my money made in a Harley
And we don’t click with all this pasting and you copies
That bitch let everybody in, she likе the army
Off top on your bitch like Darby
I fuck your bitch, you fuck my bitch, that’s an assist
.45 is sick, I take my shots and I’m likе kiss
And the choppa young as Matt Gaetz b-
You think you crazy, well buddy, go enlist!
Fuck!
Let’s go
Get money, nigga
The bands
I’m a failed chemistry experiment
Take some acid, playing Jimi, Are You Experienced?
Where’s the fun Clarence? I make my appearance
Show up incoherent, nigga’s know I’m a degenerate
Wake up every morning, night before, I don’t remember it
Thick bitch, don’t know her name but I won’t get into it
Hundred on the night stand ’cause I’m so generous
(Bruiser Brigade!)
Check!
Oh well, what you make in a year spent those smoking charges at hotels
Don’t even know the last time I cut my own toenails
Sipping on that Henny, I can’t tell you how I broke smells
Write like a chisel in them cave walls
A thousand years later, they can break a voicemail
When death calls, won’t answer to no one
Came up in this bitch by myself with no gun
Everybody askin’ me, “Where you get your coke from?”
Underground like archaeologist
Should be in the psych ward for what I do with vocal chords
Call that bitch a totem pole, my face be all up on the board
Inside the vocal booth, we’re running out of bud
A loony thing what I do with [?]
People saying that I’m shallow, but I’m jumping off the deep end
‘Bout to flip the script, I ain’t even read the treatment
Like terms of services, they all in agreement
Used to work the block and I ain’t never filed a grievance
Talk to me soft like you can keep a secret
Lower down your voice ’cause it’s a high chance of leakage
Know some rappers talking but I could never speak it
Was told to keep my mouth closed and just mind my business
Malicious intent, I made that rent
Sketched out by any car that drove by with tints
Go!