Artist: GoldLink f/ Pusha T Album: Diaspora Song: Moscow Typed by: AZ Lyrics Coke white cash got me fitted like Royce Waiting (Uh, um, yeah), you leave me no choice We don't need no choice (Y'all some pussy boys) We don't need no choice (Y'all some pussy boys, uh) Yeah Nigga turned 24 I ain't pulled up in a Ghost Lamborghinis and Dinero LP's, seven hundred, you ain't know I ain't seen so many come, I done seen so many go Pistol packing, then I started trapping, then I started rapping, then I blow Niggas take it on the chin, red ribbon let me in So I been sitting on the bench, turned to him, told 'em put me in Now I'm giving buckets out, figured what I'm out, think I'm from the South Now I'm getting bad lag calls from November that you dream about Cold nigga, yet I'm bull-hearted Always remember where it all started Niggas thinkin' it was easy money 'till we came into it and we made a market Made self, made millions, rap hero turned villain RCA made a monster, new coat crocodilian Do this song for the kids, show these little motherfuckers how we living Real drug dealer shit, trappin' out apartment buildings Goddamn, what a time, what a time, what a ride Heard it only gets better, even better, more time Goddamn, what a time (Yeah) Pistol packing, never slacking, beats killer, killer, mister (Yeah, yeah) Pistol packing, never slacking, beats killer, killer, mister (Yeah) Pistol packing, never slacking, beats killer, killer, mister (Yeah) Pistol packing, never slacking, beats killer, killer, mister (Yeah, right) Big gun, big gun, nigga, shoulda never let us in Shortie let me brought a friend, shoulda never brought a friend Would I hit both teams? Hmm, that kinda all depends 'Cause money be the motive, money be my girlfriend I'm committed to the movement, you committed to the wave Yeah, I know it get you paid but why you tatted on your face All season, every year, we the ones they want to fear Killing niggas like a doom, killing niggas or my peers I don't give a fuck, I just run amuck I reiterate, I just want the bucks I just want the neck, I ain't talkin' head Big fat bed, not a flatbed Want the simple things, kind of stripper things That's some thicker things, let a night things Real vibe thing and that night when I- when I hit it all night With a "Goddamn what a time" Yeah Iffy Fm