At the House - Young Dolph

Ayyy

It’s Dolph!

I do this shit for real, my nigga

That 2 seater, fully loaded.

This Swisher Sweet, fully loaded

This wrist piece, fully loaded

So this four five, fully loaded

Them young niggas, I can’t control em.

Pull up with a thirty thousand dollar

motor

Eyes low, cuz I’m never sober, cuz I’m a mud drinker and a strong smoker

Got a little bitch that get money out Pure Passion and out Stroker’s

My old head nigga said, «You get too much money, young nigga stay focused!»

Had an out of state plug when I was nineteen nigga, so I ain’t ever been local

Jumped in this rap game, spent a little bit of change, brought the streets with

me, now it’s time to take over!

That’s that Paper Route Empire shit.

Got a white girl that like to twerk,

and she on that Miley Cyrus shit

Don’t need no pen, don’t need no paper.

Just give me a track, and I’ll demolish

it

I’m on the other side of the country, with fifty p’s in my closet, bitch!

I have the bread in the house

In the bed, in the couch

I came up with a multi-million dollar plan at the house

I don’t trust these hoes, so I don’t get head at the house

I just woke up out a nightmare, fucking feds ran in the house

Press up CDs at the house, weighing Ps at the house

Hell nah, I ain’t never had no keys at the house

Lotta pistols, a hundred thousand dollar wardrobe at the house

Fresh as fuck and strapped up, every time I leave the house

I got no cable at the house, just plenty paper at the house

I ain’t talking hoes, when I say I got flavors at the house

Stack my paper to the ceiling, went and bought Mama a house

Said, «Mama, do me a favor, and keep yo ass up out the South.»

Now Mama waving at her white neighbors, just chillin at the house

But Daddy just like me, that nigga still running in and out

What you doing in the hood dad?

«Young nigga watch your mouth»

My Mama just called me tipsy, say she brought me in and she’ll take me out

Damn, what the fuck?

Yeah I’m still dealin' with this

Daddy just like me, south Memphis nigga, that’s real nigga shit

Hood nigga run through a couple hundred bands while I’m eating on a box of

Popeyes

I’m connected like Wi-Fi

Nigga that’s why I…

I have the bread in the house

In the bed, in the couch

I came up with a multi-million dollar plan at the house

I don’t trust these hoes, so I don’t get head at the house

I just woke up out a nightmare, fucking feds ran in the house

Press up CDs at the house, weighing Ps at the house

Hell nah, I ain’t never had no keys at the house

Lotta pistols, a hundred thousand dollar wardrobe at the house

Fresh as fuck and strapped up, every time I leave the house