mixtape: Young Mi$fit (2012) - Playboi Carti (performed as $ir Cartier)




















36 Villianz lyrics - Playboi Carti

(performed as $ir Cartier)

[Girl:]
"You'd be very foolish to not to understand that because demons are real and people are influenced by bad spirits"

[Carti:]
Yeah, yeah
Carti, yeah

Southside nigga, flat ninja
My niggas take time off yo' clock with the Glock
Purple killing that fool, I smoke dolo by two
Got me high to the roof, got ya' bitch getting loose
Carti that dude, it's blue in the jewels
[?] comes on, three G's one blunt just me three cunts come feel with me drink up
(Uh Damn)
I'm off the green gas, going [?]
I'm high way, lay my ass with you
This the truth bitch, this is what I do bitch, this is what I do bitch
Nigga fuck you (Carti)
Fuck em all get this cake that's how I piss them off
I got work that's gon' be gone tomorrow
Ship it off state to state, nigga don't hate
Cartier with your bitch on the interstate, foreign whip she love this shit she ridin' it rollin' that glass roll that gas bitch I'm the man

(All of these bitches) [x4]
(I'm gon fuck all of these bitches) [x3]
(Fuck what you think, Carti)

[Crying and screaming]
(Noooo nooo noooo, stop it ahhhhhh)
[Heavy breathing]
(Nooo stop it, you murderer!)

ZOMBIE$ lyrics - Playboi Carti

(performed as $ir Cartier)

Coke in the lip, gettin' head in the whip
No average, bad bitch, ass thick
Fat tits, she a dime, fuckin' with a dime, dollar bill
State of mind, TMZ, fuck enemies, I skateboard with Zombies
My niggas blow good, got them palm trees on the palm trees
When the shark speak, I'm a showboat
On a jet ski rockin' SBs, rockin' Tommy
Fendi belt, where the 9 be?
Blowin' hella smoke, where your soul go?
Where your spirit at?
Gettin' cash bitch, I gotta have shit
I got cheetah print on my pumas bitch
My lungs black, my brain pink
Swisher guts, leave evidence
That I've bend over and fucked your bitch
I'm an asshole, I might take your ho
So don't bring your ho in my presence
Graveyard my residence
Zombie broads give me neck and shit
Pulled off with the top off
Let the smoke clear
Cartier in here
I got a bitch in a different place
Cold weather, North Face
All black, Cartier yeah
I do what I can, I'm the fuckin' man
Man, ask your bitch, she a fuckin' fan

$kit #1 lyrics - Playboi Carti

(performed as $ir Cartier)

What is this?
You shouldn't have touched anything from that basement
Pokunda, estrada, untosei, canda
You're all going to die tonight

Blue Crystal$ lyrics - Playboi Carti (feat. VoduZ)

(performed as $ir Cartier)

[Voduz:]
Yeah, uh
I got hoes in different time zones
East, west, in the middle
That's a no fly zone
'Cause we drop bombs every chance we get
Told you niggas I am floodin' yo time-lines with plenty of them dope rhymes
I put them down in no time
We drop the track
They eat it up
We hit the stage
They deep as fuck
Them lame ass niggas can't eat with us, nah
Can't smoke no tree with us, nah
Nigga, collecting all the profit
We drop a song, that's a trendin' topic
Catch me hired up with Cartier and my nigga Drew
Yeah, that's the crew
Tryna stack that cheese like Ratatouille
? through yo avenue
Levi shit, I ain't never had the Trues
No nightmares bitch, my dreams is blue
All these little niggas, they ain't got no clue
Me and Cartier like two for two
Young niggas gotta get this bread
Spittin'em dope rhyme
That's a gold mine, shit
Finna be on a no-time shit
Wack niggas get no shine
We in the club
We blow a cloud
Yo bitch in here
She break it down
Yah, we gon' smoke a pound

[Playboi Carti:]
Brand new, I put the rims on it
Bad bitch, she been on it
Bag of weed, that's THC
I smoke gasoline that's why she fuck with me
Real nigga in a fake world
Your girl on my deck
That's some skateboard shit
No magazine, but I thrash the bitch
Let's get this established bitch
Arm and hammer, fix yo manners
Disrespectful, come and fix your grammar
Blow a hole in yo fuckin' skull
I'm poppin' shells
I'm feelin' buzzed
Tripple C's on a Alpine
I'm blowin' trees, I'm feelin' fine
Life is good but
We too hood to be on some shit that we ain't about
I get cheese like a cash-cow
Oh we good now
We got money pounds in the basement
I'm spendin' this shit
I ran up for the third time this week
'Cause money don't sleep
All these diamonds on me, all these diamonds on me
Bitch freeze

(Yeah, yeah
All these diamonds on me, money don't sleep)
Diamonds
(All these diamonds on me)
Blue Crystals
Yeah
Cash
(Bitch freeze)
(All these diamonds on me)
Blue, Blue Crystals
(Bitch freeze)
Cash
Carti
VoduZ
Diamonds

$teeze lyrics - Playboi Carti

(performed as $ir Cartier)

Soft white powder clam chowder with your bitch
Snortin' up that line she tryin' to ease up her mind
2 door on that black coupe
No gold black jewels
Fuck you and yo attitude
I do what I got to
Man the pot ain't free stupid
Knots in my jeans caviar and ice cream
It seems that I like these nice things
So I'm out here for that green
Peakin' through the sunroof
Mesmerized on the clouds
I wish to be on that level
So I picked up that loud
Let yo chick roll the blunt
She made me proud
Applause
I'm tryin' to get up in them draws
Better yet I'm tryin' to get up in them draws
So stop poppin your jaws
And park the car

Carti yeah with the dollar bill
Rain, club, (yeah yeah)
Trying to get all the bitches
All the bitches
All the bitches

Check my steez bitch please
I got cheese
My whole team ill
Rick owe we blow by O's
Real cut throat
Fuck a hoe we bout that dough
Skate racks break club flow go on her jean jack
You and your crew wack
Air pack you on dat
Cash first that so I got that gold on deck
Nice coupe bad chick in the front hoe
Then the pooch
White man wealth I'm sitting tall like I hoop
Mad cheese mad steez
Dopeness in my tissue
Uh
Money ain't the issue
Uh
I thought you niggas been knew
On the hours under the influence
Nigga I am true to this
You lame niggas got me all bent
Ya'll knew to this
Talk about this money we involved in
Blow that jane then we vent nigga

Van Go lyrics - Playboi Carti

(performed as $ir Cartier)

Carti
Let it rain
She said this how she feel when she on a pill (yeah)
Once the smoke marinate, you don't feel the chill
Handsome ass nigga I got bitches cause (uh)
Fuck yo block, pistols pop, cause we don't give no fucks (no)
I swear my life is a fucking blessing
All my problems disappear when I'm in rotation
The room spinning (yeah)
I'm that situation (elevation)
I'm so motherfucking faded with your old lady
2 blunts ventilation, good brain, highly educated
Getting paid is my occupation
I don't feel safe in the streets (no, lil bitch)
My tommy is a beast, NASCAR
You never fly past a G, hoe
Carti rocking Tommy like we in the 90s (hoe)
Carti rocking Stussy
Carti get the pussy (hoe)
Lame niggas out here trying do me, salute me, or shoot me

I'm on the avenue, standing on top of my toes
Eyes closed
Selling heat, watch your nose
I got connects with the Pope (yeah)
My lookout she know (yeah, shit, uh)

Foreign car keys kick spark, please ten deep stitched
Bitch quick, don't touch my shit (yeah)
New watch on my wrist
She like, damn what happened to your wrist
Oh don't worry bitch, my diamonds cut this shit (yeah)
Hold up, let me roll up
Smoke some good stuff (okay)
Quick puff, then I start seeing stuff (Carti)

Paper Cha$in' lyrics - Playboi Carti

(performed as $ir Cartier)

Dolla bill
Yeah
Music, from the soul y'all
Yeah

I tell my niggas we gotta chase the bills
Thousands, a couple mills
Vanilla skies, nice crib
Dependin' on the weather how I choose my 'mobile
Cruise through the strip just to cop a zip
Bad chick tatted underneath her lip
Get a lift, guarantee I'm gonna hit
She love the shit I wear, sponsored by the time of year
Always prepared, dutch master
In her ear, get plastered
My crew members get hazzard
Skateboardin' fashion Nascar drivin
Your hoe love my adlibs
Dolla bill
(Dope)
(Yeah)
(Yeah)
(Yeah)
(Yeah)

Bitch I gotta get the cash [x3] (yeah yeah) (Carti [x8])
I gotta get the cash
Bitch I gotta get the cash [x3] (yeah yeah) (Carti [x8])
I gotta get the cash
I gotta get the cash

All my niggas skate, all you niggas hate
This Fendi on my waist
Your chick gave me that "I can't feel my face"
I can't feel my face
I got a foreign car, foreign broad
Good head, pornstar
Cash first, fuck y'all
Creamtoppers I gotta ball
Outfit come from Montreal, make a scene when I'm in the mall
Freeze, hold up
Your girl, she gon' run up

Bitch I gotta get the cash [x3] (yeah yeah) (Carti [x8])
I gotta get the cash
Bitch I gotta get the cash [x3] (yeah yeah) (Carti [x8])
I gotta get the cash
I gotta get the cash

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