Broccoli
Broccoli

Broccoli Lyrics Meanings
by DRAM, Lil Yachty

Apr 6, 2016
23
Broccoli Music Video

Broccoli Lyrics

Ain't no tellin' what I'm finna be on, ay, ay
I'm beyond all that fuck shit, hey

Hey, lil' mama, would you like to be my sunshine?
Nigga touch my gang, we gon' turn this shit to Columbine
Ice on my neck cost me ten times three
Thirty-thousand dollars for a nigga to get flee
I just hit Rodeo and I spent like ten Gs
I just did a show and spent the check on my mama
When I go on vacay I might rent out the Bahamas
And I keep like ten phones, damn, I'm really never home
All these niggas clones tryna copy what I'm on
Nigga get your own, tryna pick a nigga bone
Word to brother Skip, boy, I had a good day
Metro PCS trappin', boy, I'm makin' plays
Fifty Shades of Grey, beat that pussy like Hulk Hogan
I know you know my slogan, if it ain't 'bout guap I'm gone
Niggas hatin' 'cause I'm chosen from the concrete I had rose
Shorty starin' at my necklace 'cause my diamonds really froze
Put that dick up in her pussy, bet she feel it in her toes
I'ma real young nigga from the six throwin' bows
I'ma real young nigga from the six throwin' bows
Real young nigga from the six throwin' bows

In the middle of the party, bitch, get off me (goddamn)
In the cut, I'm rollin' up my broccoli (goddamn)
Yeah, I know your baby mama fond of me (goddamn)
All she want to do is smoke that broccoli (goddamn)
Whispered in my ear she tryin' to leave with me (goddamn)
Tell her that I can get that pussy easily (goddamn)
Tell her that I can hit that shit so greasily (goddamn)
I'm a dirty dog, I did it sleazily

Ain't no tellin' what I'm finna be on, ay, ay
I'm beyond all that fuck shit, hey
Ain't no tellin' what I'm finna, hey, be on, ay, ay
Said I'm beyond all that fuck shit, ay

I got companies and Pesos
I got people on my payroll
She don't do it 'less I say so
I don't smoke if it ain't fuego
I just sauce 'em up like Prego
Fettuccini with Alfredo
All I wanted was the fame and every game they made on Sega
I was five or six years old
When I had told myself, "Okay, you're special"
But I treat you like my equal, never lesser
I was twenty-six years old
When we had dropped this one amazin' record
Had the world steppin'
That's what I call epic
Couple summers later I got paper
I acquired taste for salmon on a bagel
With the capers on a square plate
At the restaurant with the "Why you got to stare?" Face
To know I either ball or I record over the snare and bass
Rapper face, dread headed
Golden diamond teeth wearin'
They just mad 'cause I got that cheese, bitch, I keep dairy
Turnt up in the party, gettin' lit to Yachty
With a Spanish Barbie, word to my mami

In the middle of the party bitch get off me (off me)
In the cut, I'm rollin' up my broccoli (my weed, my weed)
Yeah, I know your baby mama fond of me (she fond of me)
All she want to do is smoke that broccoli (that weed, that weed)
Whispered in my ear she tryin' to leave with me (she wanna fuck)
Said that I can get that pussy easily (I'm gonna fuck)
Said that I can hit that shit so greasily (oh yeah, oh yeah)
I'ma dirty dog I did it sleazily (yeah-yeah)

Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay
Yeah-yeah
Ay, ay, ay, ay

Writer(s): Julian Gramma, Karl Rubin Brutus, Miles McCollum, Roget Chahayed, Shelley Massenburg-Smith
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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