"18 DAYS" lyrics
Billy Marchiafava & ANH Lyrics
My life ain't average, dawg
Billy poppin' like Adderall
You don't like me, I'm not mad at all
You can listen to a different song
Been on my grind like a motherfucker, Tony Hawk
Been on my grind like a motherfucker eatin' chalk
Don't call me unless there's money involved, I really ball (Billy)
Keep your distance
I might just go ballistic in this bitch
She told me she could feel it in her ribs
I'm whippin' in a brand new Benz, I don't need new friends
Never goin' back (Billy)
All of my enemies have a heart attack
You were a fan, don't you remember that?
You make no sense, so here's your quarter back
Getting brain, like Ivy League
I've been an asshole since ABC
Since Halo 3 and Plain White Tees
It's me, I'm Hasselhoff at the beach
Flexin', capeesh
I really don't sleep
You ahead and then you make believe
My car got no keys and I'm off that gasoline
Run it up, I'm an athlete
Run, run, run to the bucks
Your mom in my DM, I'm 'bout to drink her up
They want a feature, we got a line like duck
Back to your mom, think I'm really in her guts
In love with money, I'm 'bout to get me a tux
I'm off the Henny, I'm really 'bout to throw up
Squirrel, I'm goin' nuts
18 days in that studio, I'm gettin' moody, ho
She wanna kick it, like judo
Let's get it crackin', like the top of the bottle
Billy on the track
You want beef? Go to the meadow
I'm getting bands, heavy metal
Okay, that's right
They really wanna be on my shoes, like Mike
They really wanna copy and paste my life
They really wanna ride on the wave, it's too high
I'm too high
Getting cheese, quesadilla, mama mia
You know Billy ain't signin' a deal
I've been poppin' since Happy Meals
You still want beef? Go try the ville
Ayy, ooh, damn, okay, woah, wait, I'm too real
Tell a bitch to get out, like Jordan Peele
She really suckin' like vacuum seal, I gotta peal
I just wanted Lucille Ball
Step in the mall and buy it all
They know, they know who to call
Christopher Walken to the bank, I'll fall
Bam, pow, boom, wham
Tell me this shit is your jam
Tell me this shit gon' slap
Michael Myers, I'm back
Billy get it jumpin', like Jack
Kuzco like the emperors new groove, got my groove on
I'm too gone
Bottoms up, like Trey Songz
Really feelin' like James Bond, I'm on
I'm really on top like King Kong
Ayo, look at what we got over here
Ayo, you see this?
We got beautiful fresh cut stuffed peppers
Billy poppin' like Adderall
You don't like me, I'm not mad at all
You can listen to a different song
Been on my grind like a motherfucker, Tony Hawk
Been on my grind like a motherfucker eatin' chalk
Don't call me unless there's money involved, I really ball (Billy)
Keep your distance
I might just go ballistic in this bitch
She told me she could feel it in her ribs
I'm whippin' in a brand new Benz, I don't need new friends
Never goin' back (Billy)
All of my enemies have a heart attack
You were a fan, don't you remember that?
You make no sense, so here's your quarter back
Getting brain, like Ivy League
I've been an asshole since ABC
Since Halo 3 and Plain White Tees
It's me, I'm Hasselhoff at the beach
Flexin', capeesh
I really don't sleep
You ahead and then you make believe
My car got no keys and I'm off that gasoline
Run it up, I'm an athlete
Run, run, run to the bucks
Your mom in my DM, I'm 'bout to drink her up
They want a feature, we got a line like duck
Back to your mom, think I'm really in her guts
In love with money, I'm 'bout to get me a tux
I'm off the Henny, I'm really 'bout to throw up
Squirrel, I'm goin' nuts
18 days in that studio, I'm gettin' moody, ho
She wanna kick it, like judo
Let's get it crackin', like the top of the bottle
Billy on the track
You want beef? Go to the meadow
I'm getting bands, heavy metal
Okay, that's right
They really wanna be on my shoes, like Mike
They really wanna copy and paste my life
They really wanna ride on the wave, it's too high
I'm too high
Getting cheese, quesadilla, mama mia
You know Billy ain't signin' a deal
I've been poppin' since Happy Meals
You still want beef? Go try the ville
Ayy, ooh, damn, okay, woah, wait, I'm too real
Tell a bitch to get out, like Jordan Peele
She really suckin' like vacuum seal, I gotta peal
I just wanted Lucille Ball
Step in the mall and buy it all
They know, they know who to call
Christopher Walken to the bank, I'll fall
Bam, pow, boom, wham
Tell me this shit is your jam
Tell me this shit gon' slap
Michael Myers, I'm back
Billy get it jumpin', like Jack
Kuzco like the emperors new groove, got my groove on
I'm too gone
Bottoms up, like Trey Songz
Really feelin' like James Bond, I'm on
I'm really on top like King Kong
Ayo, look at what we got over here
Ayo, you see this?
We got beautiful fresh cut stuffed peppers
Writer(s): Inconnu Compositeur Auteur, William R Marchiafava
