"Bet The House" lyrics
(Ayo, Sheff)
Uh, ayy
What?
Naw, for shit sure (Run that shit up, Nate)
I'll run it up to another planet
Sauce
Ooh, hey
What? Uh-uh, ayy
Yeah, uh-uh-uh-uh
What? Uh, ayy, let's go, uh
Know what I'm sayin'? We drippin', spillin', and splashin'
All at the same damn time
Yeah
Watch how you move 'round these people, they plottin'
Pull out this shit, tell a nigga to stick it up
One in the head, ain't no need for to cock it
Ain't havin' money, lil' nigga, go get it up
His bankroll too small, it ain't big enough
Smoke me an opp like a 'Wood or a Phillie blunt
Talked to the plug, had to tell him to send me some
Walk in the mall, spend that shit, it's like it ain't nothin', ayy
Live the sweet life like Cody and Zack
Gettin' to the cash, feelin' like Magic Max
Tennis shoes on my feet, they cost more than a stack
I'm a Sauce nigga, I'm yellin', "Splatt"
Yeah, I wrapped brown on the back 'cause I'm shittin' on these cats
I want racks, give a fuck about havin' no plaques
See, the snakes'll get whacked and most definitely the rats
Yeah, I'm standin' on drippin' and that there a fact
Uh, tell you some shit and you might not believe it
Nigga try play, leave his whole family grievin'
I ain't no Shia LaBeouf, but you actin' too tough, we get even like Steven
Tryna transform an opp, where he stand, we gon' leave him
If it ain't 'bout the cheese, ain't no sense for the beef
Pockets fat like the Klumps, Sherman, Ernie or Cletus
Known to shut me somethin' down like I'm Darrelle Revis
I played on the corner
Baccarat or the oud my aroma
Fuck the worker, I'm tryna be the owner
Leave 'em sick like they havin' pneumonia
Pour the syrup out a six, no Coronas
Knock it out the park, yeah, you know that's a homer
Leave 'em dead, cleanin' with ammonia
Jewelry hittin', Mortal Kombat, Sonya, blade
Hey
You know what I'm sayin'?
Naw, for shit sure
You know, I like to let the beat breathe for a little bit now
This shit is The Brown Album
And you tuned in with the motherfuckin' greatest
The one and only
You know what I'm sayin'
Go'n and get back to it, let's do it
Ooh
Catch me a bitch like an oop, that's an alley
I'm havin' water just like Mountain Valley
Was servin' some shit like I worked at a Rally's
And bitch, we the best, not no Khaled
The bed size be king, I slept on the pallets
Had to change up my scene, that shit was too average
Now I ball like a three from Dirk on the Mavericks
And lil' mama got ass, it's fat like a stallion
But, naw, she ain't Megan
I'm a god, I can't hang with the peasants
Youngin with a thirty, call him Stephen
Tryna wrap a nigga like a present
Gotta watch for the ones that be tellin'
Catch a baby boy and choke him like I'm Melvin
Sold the white girl, called it Ellen
Spray the chopper, treat it like repellent
Had to go'n get 'em off
I threw it deep and they caught it like Moss
These are LV, came a long way from Ross
You a lil' worker, can't talk to a boss
I cross me a nigga, Hot Sauce
In the 'Vette, hit the cash, you can hear the exhaust
Makin' plays in the field like my name Jared Goff
You ain't comin' with cash, then you can get lost
Neck and wrist is on frost, on myself, bet the house, ayy
Naw, for shit sure
And that's a pure fact
Talkin' 'bout the absolute truth
I'll bet the house on my motherfuckin' self
Naw, this that sauce shit, man
At its pure finest
Ooh, ooh
Hey
Uh, ayy
What?
Naw, for shit sure (Run that shit up, Nate)
I'll run it up to another planet
Sauce
Ooh, hey
What? Uh-uh, ayy
Yeah, uh-uh-uh-uh
What? Uh, ayy, let's go, uh
Know what I'm sayin'? We drippin', spillin', and splashin'
All at the same damn time
Yeah
Watch how you move 'round these people, they plottin'
Pull out this shit, tell a nigga to stick it up
One in the head, ain't no need for to cock it
Ain't havin' money, lil' nigga, go get it up
His bankroll too small, it ain't big enough
Smoke me an opp like a 'Wood or a Phillie blunt
Talked to the plug, had to tell him to send me some
Walk in the mall, spend that shit, it's like it ain't nothin', ayy
Live the sweet life like Cody and Zack
Gettin' to the cash, feelin' like Magic Max
Tennis shoes on my feet, they cost more than a stack
I'm a Sauce nigga, I'm yellin', "Splatt"
Yeah, I wrapped brown on the back 'cause I'm shittin' on these cats
I want racks, give a fuck about havin' no plaques
See, the snakes'll get whacked and most definitely the rats
Yeah, I'm standin' on drippin' and that there a fact
Uh, tell you some shit and you might not believe it
Nigga try play, leave his whole family grievin'
I ain't no Shia LaBeouf, but you actin' too tough, we get even like Steven
Tryna transform an opp, where he stand, we gon' leave him
If it ain't 'bout the cheese, ain't no sense for the beef
Pockets fat like the Klumps, Sherman, Ernie or Cletus
Known to shut me somethin' down like I'm Darrelle Revis
I played on the corner
Baccarat or the oud my aroma
Fuck the worker, I'm tryna be the owner
Leave 'em sick like they havin' pneumonia
Pour the syrup out a six, no Coronas
Knock it out the park, yeah, you know that's a homer
Leave 'em dead, cleanin' with ammonia
Jewelry hittin', Mortal Kombat, Sonya, blade
Hey
You know what I'm sayin'?
Naw, for shit sure
You know, I like to let the beat breathe for a little bit now
This shit is The Brown Album
And you tuned in with the motherfuckin' greatest
The one and only
You know what I'm sayin'
Go'n and get back to it, let's do it
Ooh
Catch me a bitch like an oop, that's an alley
I'm havin' water just like Mountain Valley
Was servin' some shit like I worked at a Rally's
And bitch, we the best, not no Khaled
The bed size be king, I slept on the pallets
Had to change up my scene, that shit was too average
Now I ball like a three from Dirk on the Mavericks
And lil' mama got ass, it's fat like a stallion
But, naw, she ain't Megan
I'm a god, I can't hang with the peasants
Youngin with a thirty, call him Stephen
Tryna wrap a nigga like a present
Gotta watch for the ones that be tellin'
Catch a baby boy and choke him like I'm Melvin
Sold the white girl, called it Ellen
Spray the chopper, treat it like repellent
Had to go'n get 'em off
I threw it deep and they caught it like Moss
These are LV, came a long way from Ross
You a lil' worker, can't talk to a boss
I cross me a nigga, Hot Sauce
In the 'Vette, hit the cash, you can hear the exhaust
Makin' plays in the field like my name Jared Goff
You ain't comin' with cash, then you can get lost
Neck and wrist is on frost, on myself, bet the house, ayy
Naw, for shit sure
And that's a pure fact
Talkin' 'bout the absolute truth
I'll bet the house on my motherfuckin' self
Naw, this that sauce shit, man
At its pure finest
Ooh, ooh
Hey
