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Quavo - Drugs Only lyrics

[Hook: Chill Will]
Nigga better not run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Or he gonna be a dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
This spot is for drugs only

[Verse 1: Quavo]
Pulling up in a big wheelie
Cooking dope, just me and Chilly
Stuffing the bricks in the Bentley
I wrap it and send it to Philly
This a drug only area you trippin'
Phew, the pack gone missing missing
Gggraow, gggraow, the bullet gon' hit him
Young nigga young nigga we realer
I hang we with gorillas
My niggas dope dealers
You short with the guala?
Call Skippa the Flippa


[Verse 2: Takeoff]
The coca that cola, I'm smoking a blunt
Like that purple come from Minnesota
The plug hit my Motorola
He talking bout shipping it over
Can't fold you gotta roll over
That's what them OG D told me
Me and Chill Will, popping the seal
Diamonds on chill, Forgi my wheel
Flipping the brick trying to get me a M
Trap spot, no Jay Z, J got that hard knock
Cameras on my [?] block

[Hook]
This spot is for drugs only
Drugs only, drugs only
Drugs only, drugs only
Drugs only, drugs only
Got a whole lot of money on me
Money on me, money on me
Money on me, money on me
Money on me, money on me
Nigga better not run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Run up on me, run up on me
Or he gonna be a dead homie
[Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/quavo/-/drugs-only.html]
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
Dead homie, dead homie
This spot is for drugs only

[Verse 3: Chill Will]
I tell you right now
I don't really play bout that
You done went and made me mad
I tell you right now
A nigga can't tell me nothing
You ain't never sold me nothing
Count the money I'm sweatin' (Woo!)
10 squares I'm blessed
Your girl on my dick cause there's ice around my neck
This song is for thugs only, this house is for drugs only
This kitchen, no refrigerator
Just a stove in it with a pot on it
All this big money on me, now I gotta keep a gun on me
Niggas trying to run a trick play then they gonna have to bury homie
Short barrel, Gary Coleman, 81 bullets, Terrell Owens
I'm VIP, members only
Pulling these hoes like [?]
911, operator
New Jaguar, space invader
Let a nigga run, gonna get done up, trying to fuck up my come up

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Yung Fresh]
This spot is for drugs only, this spot is for plugs only
357 [?] slug on me, VVS shining like bulbs on me
Hit your ass in your mug homie
Fuck around you have a dead homie
Chill Will and street money
Running through a hundred on an easy Sunday
You pour [?] not Giovanni
Serve it in real glass, this bitch bunkin'
Got real juugs coming from the contra
Nigga how you want it, hard or soft
Re-up and flip it 'fo I take a loss
Super clear clarity, hear it in his cloths
Got cameras everyone in this spot
Got gambino dope in this pot
Flatscreens everywhere on the wall
Got choppers on the floor, fuck the law
All I got is my word and my balls
Super-charged motor with the [?]
This spot is for drugs only
This spot for making drug money
This spot this bitch bunkin'
Thank the lord for rubber bands, keep 'em coming

[Hook]

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