Millions

I don't do regular degular
3.5 the minimum
Plugged in I don't do middle men
She got a throat like a pelican
Melanin looking like cinnamon
I've been out here just winging it
When it comes to the subject of fitting in
Giving no fucks; I'm celibate
Dance on a bitch like Ellen Degeneres
Lately, I'm feeling generous
Which means anybody can get it
Swing on a nigga like pendulum
Fuck it though, bucket low; Gilligan
She wanna know when we chilling and
Sauce overloaded I'm spilling it
Build like Bob; I'm drilling it, drilling it
Novocaine with these lames; nah, I ain't feeling it
Mask off mask on; Michael Meyers I'm killing it
They left but I stayed, I'm still in it
Reaping the benefits of my development
You niggas tough on the internet
Knowing you really don't wanna get into it
Me and my shorty get intimate
She got the cake like Entenmann's
Niggas be moving like Slytherin
They don't know who the real wizard is
We ain't alike no synonym
My head is so hot, it's sizzling
Ducking a grave and imprisonment
I'm on my way to a million

Yea, I'm on my way to a million
Uh, I'm on my way to two million
I'm on my way to three million
I'm on my way to four million
I'm on my way to five million
Ruger! Ruger!

Niggas ain't ready
Niggas ain't ready
Niggas ain't ready
These niggas ain't ready
These niggas ain't ready
It's dry clean only
It's dry clean only
It's dry clean only

Look! I'm supreme
Higher than my self esteem
Off the porch since thirteen
Running schemes with the team
Yea my bro serving fiends
Digi scale; no triple beams
Keep that glock in his reach
You want smoke? He'll let it steam
Back to me I'm a champ
Like Ali, smoking dank
Super flee; I am swank
Hillary; fill up banks
Smoking good in Hollywood
Take your bitch? I probably could
Money long Mr. Scrooge
Top Boys out to get the food
Shorty suck me off so proper
Now she got me in the mood
Slap my dick on top her face
She love that shit, so it ain't rude
What the fuck is competition to me?
What I got to prove?
Win or lose? Better choose
You can never fill these shoes
Game time; Ruger playing by a different set of rules
Fucking on my latest muse
I think she came from Peru
Blowing money on tattoos
Shit is real no Hebrew
Turn it down I refuse
Light a fuse I go boom

Yea! I'm on my way to a million
Again! I'm on my way to two million
No, I'm on my way to three million
Yea, I'm on my way to four million
I'm on my way to five million
What's my name? Ruger!

Niggas ain't ready
Niggas ain't ready
You niggas ain't ready
These niggas ain't ready
These niggas ain't ready
It's dry clean only
It's dry clean only
It's dry clean only
Ruger!



Credits
Writer(s): Stephen Hunte
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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