T.I. On Purpose текст песни, слова песни On Purpose T.I. & Trouble Rich Kidd Shad
T.I. - On Purpose
feat. Trouble Rich Kidd Shad
I say I'm ridin, I'm swervin
Barely missing the curb
I got this bad bitch and she twerkin
Hit the parking lot and we murk this shit
On purpose, on purpose
We hit the club and we hurtin them folks
On purpose, on purpose
You can save the hate it ain't workin
Say I'm ridin, I'm swervin
Barely missing the curve
I got this bad bitch and she twerkin
Hit the parking lot and we murk this shit
On purpose, on purpose
Don't try me dawg we'll fuck you up
On purpose, on purpose
Automatic K and it's squirtin' (Bow!)
[Verse 1: T.I.]
I'm double cup in my lean, swisher sweet in my fruity
Got 20 plus in my jeans, make them stipper bitch get to it
Got 6s in my burban, I'm riding high and I'm swervin bruh
My kush hard in my back seat with a black freak and he twerkin her
Hard in the paint like Josh Smith, do not slip, I bang mine
I'm zone one bankhead shawty, I'm west side no gang signs
Pimp squad, grand hustle man, steady duckin' them suckers man
This trouble man ridin' with trouble man, them mutherfuckas in trouble man
I'm rubberband in my banks like it got thigh pads in my Levis
Naw shawty no Levis, these Strivers Row, we ballin ho
Quarter mil in the bag brought it all to blow
On 24, we surfin
Rep Atlanta shit no accident we immaculate on purpose
[Hook: T.I.]
[Verse 2: Trouble]
(Uh huh, uh huh, yeaaahh)
I murk a nigga on purpose (Bow! Bow!) flatline
For the real A to take back over the game, it's that time
Shawty poppin' ass fat, so I'm feelin' like she worth it
This cash I'm finna be servin', feelin' like she doin' it on purpose
Just swervin' just tryna get to her (whoo!), vicious, 36-34-36, ridiculous
Jazzy phizzle my nizzle I'm iller than illa bitch ya, a bad bitch poppin' ass like a stripper
And I'm the tipper
Aye Tip, I just fucked her and her sister, on purpose
To the world they some good girls, but I know behind the curtains
They gon get down and dirty, on a camera while I slam her
Goddamn I love Atlanta, chop a pistol, grip a hammer
[Hook: T.I.]
[Verse 3: Rich Kidd Shad]
(Oh yeah, oh yeah, aye look, aye look, aye look)
Pullin' up, they like how the fuck, he got 6's on his sports car
Bad bitch with some big tits we got all the dope in her sport bra
After I hit the curb I gotta slow leap, see she was suckin' me slowly
These black tint got me number 3 on that Urban Legend you don't know me
My ferrari ass I'm horsin', I hit the gas she moisten
Them lame ho be like nuh-uh, this ol' pussy dick where her voice at
You know everywhere stand by that, you'll never get where that Glock at
Myself man for the fortune ho, same thing for that outfit (yeah)
Look like I'm bout to do a little commercial, when I see them nigga hatin', I'm a play that shit in worser (yeah)
Big boy with coach, that be a couple bands a pop (uh huh)
They wanna see me but them photos had me top ho
[Hook: T.I.]
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