Stan Walker – Thank You Lyrics
I think I’ma call this shit (I’m finna call this shit “All Nighter”)
“All Nighter”
My nigga, it’s five o’clock in the morning right now
Can’t even sleep (I don’t know why I don’t sleep)
All my sleep deprived niggas, ride
Going fast, Paul Walker
I ain’t have my strap, so I hit ’em with a walker
And I got a fast car, no, I’m not a walker
And I do this shit that I rap, I’m not a talker
Look, I got the walker from my grandma
Coolin’ on the west side, nigga, R.I.P my grandma
And I’m moving slow, like a muhfuckin’ grandpa
Face fucked up, man, I need to hit the damn spa
Who the fuck got a charger in this bitch? Damn, my phone died
Talking too much on FaceTime, she got me occupied
And I rolled a fat-ass J, got me occupied
The bitch so useless, she can’t even cook a fuckin’ pie
She do everything wrong, nigga, she can’t even fuckin’ lie
Police know I’m high when they look inside a nigga eye
I don’t fuck with bitches, lil’ baby, it’s just you and I
And I’m real sorry when I really made you fuckin’ cry (Goddamn)
She say she need Perc’ ten, yeah, her tabs low
Look, and I got a dog at home, I gave it Alpo
And I take shit, so, you could call me repo man
And she said she a fan of me, so she stan
And this blunt got me high as a bee, I can’t stand
I stand up for myself, ’cause I know I’m a man
Can’t stand up by myself ’cause the lean got me dead
He don’t like alcohol, but I put shots in his head
He like, he like, “I fuckin’ hate Hennessy”
He don’t fuck with none of that Hennessy shit
He don’t like CIROC, Tequila
Te-quill-a? How you pronounce that shit? I don’t give a fuck, nigga (I don’t give a fuck ’bout that shit)
I sip Hi-Tech, fuck you talkin’ ’bout?
Look, Wockeisha, add that Wockeisha (Good drank)
It’s five thirty-three, nigga, I just be up (All nighter)
Look, lil’ bitch, that’s that Wockeisha (All nighter)
And I got a bad ass bitch named Keisha
She want Italian food, she say “Pasta”, I got a pizza
Look, and I paint a picture with this Glock, Mona Lisa
I think she think she Beyonce since I called her a diva
And that bitch talkin’ ’bout nonsense, so it’s so easy to leave her (Damn)
Yeah, that Glock breathin’
Niggas be sweet like sauce, nigga, Polynesian
And I think there’s pollen outside, ’cause a nigga sneezin’
And I saw that I was sneezin’, so I went to leanin’
Look, come on, I got some Hi-Tech
And I got a bitch that fix phones, she so high tech
She asked me for money, I hope that was a high text
She asked me for money, I don’t like the concept
Flex them fours, that’s what I rep
Choppa hit his ass, hit his throat, now he got strep
Damn, damn, I don’t sip green (I lowkey do)
And I got a pint from Walgreens, I need seventeen
All this ice on my neck, I’m the sailing team
Three diamond chains on me
Call it “Lil Boat 3”
I’m from the four, I got niggas that rep six and three
You bought them Off-White shoes but really, they some fuckin’ cleats
Sippin’ on purple, like a nigga ‘finna eat a beet (Fuckin’ got a vegetable)
Then I hopped in the studio, then I ate the beat
Just be yourself, ’cause it’s not okay to be street
That bitch a vegan, ’cause she say she don’t eat meat (Uh)
Pull out that choppa, different ball game
If I had a lil’ brother, I’d go to his ball game
Acne, Ksubi, I don’t like Balmains
She said “Buy me some rubies”, she said that I’m balling
Two Glocks, Max and Ruby
You smoke Swishers, call you Nudy
Pass the gas like “Excuse me”
Yo’ bitch say I’m a cutie
Used to be at the Q-team
In the A, smokin’ on a QP
After I finish this song, ‘finna finish smokin’ this doobie
Slide on niggas up in vans, call me Scooby
Pull out that Glock, then that shit get real spooky
Damn, nigga, I really just shut down on it
