Wrist Motion
by Troy Ave, Game & Marcus Black
Lyrics and Meaning


Ratings

Song Lyrics


Song Meaning
Verse 1
I'm in the kitchen with soda
'Bout to bag me some grams
Just a kid in a Cutlass
Having dreams of a Lamb'
'Bout to wrap my bandana
'Fore I pull up at Tams
Slanging Tony Montana
I'm talking yickins and yams
I got them bricks off in that eh eh
Them bricks off in that Benz
The feds off in that thrift shop
Tryna keep tabs on my ends
And I got that from my esa
East LA for that low
No surfboards, just turf wars
With skis off in that snow
I knew this bitch named Tanisha
Kept the kush in the jar
Used to smoke up her own shit
Pissed them drug dealers off
And then her sister Felicia
Asked to borrow my car
Now I can't give you my whip
But you can whip up this raw
Verse 2
Let me see that wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion, wrist
Let me see that wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion
Wrist motion, stop
Verse 3
Dope boy Troy Ave
Coming through in a Benz
And I brought 3 birds
Beside this bitch and her friends
We don't talk 3 words
Where the money and then
Flew on, too gone
I cut those like a coupon
Don't bounce back
I'm a hustler from Brooklyn
The other one in the back
You know that's coming for cooking
Sold a ounce of raw to my Russian
Microwave 232 to 250 homie was rushin'
'Bout to wrap up the yay
Stirring the bird
Wrist like Dr Jay
Stirring the bird
All of us like to ball
All of us standing tall
Difference is
I ain't playing with niggas at all
Verse 4
Let me see that wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion, wrist
Let me see that wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion
Wrist motion, stop
Verse 5
Let me see that wrist motion, wrist motion
Pyrexs, dishes soaking
Blood dripping, Crips loc'ing
Heard you got it locked, I'm tryna get it open
I ain't got the work, I gotta go to work
But my uncle showed me how that soda work
That brick form get them bricks going
I show you how that Motorolla working
That 2 way and that Skytel
Running errands in the hall if the guys tell
Might kill a nigga off nigga might as well
'Cause he got his hands all in my cell
I'm like hi, my name is
Not Slim Shady, but my game is
American Sniper, but my range is
Putting hallow tips in your anus
And I'm faded full like alpo
Endo blowing out though
I told my mama, I know Kanye
She said what the fuck you on my couch for?
God damn, I thought I lived here
Remember me? I was a kid here
My pops left, I got a new pops
Who the fuck am I, nigga? 2Pac?
Macaveli in the pen and pelly pell in the celly
And telly, I'm watching belly righy now
Baby mama say she want a mani-pedi
And a wappy fetty, shit I need a trap queen right now
Pipe down, why I tell her I a crack fiend
All these niggas selling soap you know what that means
Back yard barbecue, these niggas with the magazine
Mr black in my motherfucking bad dream
Ain't a rap nigga that can stop us
We gon' pop up like a pop up book for toddlers
Got these mobsters and them monsters
Making mockery of your partner
Selling Oxys to your doctor
That Impala that I got from the Dr Dre
And an AK
I been working on this 9 to 5 all day
While my niggas getting money all up in the hallway
Verse 6
From that wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion, wrist
Let me see that wrist motion
Wrist motion, wrist motion
Bitch, suck my cock
Oh shit, sorry doc

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Writer(s):Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC,
Copyright: JAYCEON TAYLOR, ROLAND COLLINS



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