Top Floor by Quilly Lyrics
[Intro: Quilly]
Uh, Uh. Yeah, it's "Quilly 3" nigga. Huh?
Don't ever let a nigga tell you what you can't do
Ha, that nigga just a hater. Negative energy
Get em away from you. Ha, stay focused
Stay focused nigga, stay positive
[Verse 1: Quilly]
I'm at the top floor lookin' down
Thinkin "should I shit on niggas' that ain't hold me down?"
Look at me, fuck niggas', let em hold a round
When you're wavy as Quilly, you ain't suppose to drown
When your heart filled wit anger, nigga you're suppose to frown
I'm bringin all my baddest bitches, gotta show in town
I'm driving all the hottest whips, I was in them squadders
I do the Mason Margielas like I did the Pradas
A fucked up boyfriend; great baby father
I used to overthink my dreams like they was never real
I took that shit from Haines Street to Beverly Hills
Shoppin' at the Beverly center
Fuckin bitches named Beverly
Purple heavily.Seein' shit I ain't never see
This bitch told me she loyal
I said "you better be."
Cuz the minute you ain't, you won't be next to me
Trunk full of dog food; Pedigree, overweight lover
In the trap movin' Heavy D
Got money for a rainy day, so when you niggas' throwin' shots
I just fade away
Take a trip, haha, I'm like fuck it, take your bitch
Or take the chip, MJ rings, I'm takin' 6
Pack so loud, you can smell it through compressors
Work straight drop, it was cooked by professors
Pimp-C pints, nothin' more, nothin' lesser
Plastic in my pocket, but them racks in the dresser
You got your city on fire, go get on the road
This shit bigger than your block, go fuck up the globe
Life told "stay focused boy, go get on your mode"
My life a movie, sit back and watch the episodes
Less niggas', extra hoes, you hangin' wit Mr. Cooper
Me and (?) blowin' Hookah, gotta stylist and a booster
My mom; I salute her, couple whores that'll line you
Some cousins that'll shoot you wit them ladders like a roofer
We got Whitney & Bobby, meet me in the lobby
The percs still poppin' cuz my brother Pill Cosby
Steaks from Del Frisco's, still go to Max's
Balenciaga sneakers, I treat em like Air Maxes
Therapeutic king size from a air mattress
Your pop was a rat, that make you a rat bastard
Mason (?) tile on my floor: Grand master
(?) like Jam-Master
We all gotta grave, that mean we all equal
My fans, I don't even call fans, they're my people
Fuckin' wit my day 1's, today and tomorrow
You don't even owe me shit, cuz you can have it
We don't borrow
[Hook: Quilly]
Aye, I just wanna live my life
Chillin' in the hills all night
Floatin' in a Phantom all white
If I can do it, I would do it twice
Aye, all night
Haha, all right
[Ending: Quilly]
Turn me up! "Quilly 3" nigga
Yeah! 3rd time around nigga
Uh, uh. Aw! don't take my adlibs either
Haha, keep all that, keep all that, we rollin'
Uh, Uh. Yeah, it's "Quilly 3" nigga. Huh?
Don't ever let a nigga tell you what you can't do
Ha, that nigga just a hater. Negative energy
Get em away from you. Ha, stay focused
Stay focused nigga, stay positive
[Verse 1: Quilly]
I'm at the top floor lookin' down
Thinkin "should I shit on niggas' that ain't hold me down?"
Look at me, fuck niggas', let em hold a round
When you're wavy as Quilly, you ain't suppose to drown
When your heart filled wit anger, nigga you're suppose to frown
I'm bringin all my baddest bitches, gotta show in town
I'm driving all the hottest whips, I was in them squadders
I do the Mason Margielas like I did the Pradas
A fucked up boyfriend; great baby father
I used to overthink my dreams like they was never real
I took that shit from Haines Street to Beverly Hills
Shoppin' at the Beverly center
Fuckin bitches named Beverly
Purple heavily.Seein' shit I ain't never see
This bitch told me she loyal
I said "you better be."
Cuz the minute you ain't, you won't be next to me
Trunk full of dog food; Pedigree, overweight lover
In the trap movin' Heavy D
Got money for a rainy day, so when you niggas' throwin' shots
I just fade away
Take a trip, haha, I'm like fuck it, take your bitch
Or take the chip, MJ rings, I'm takin' 6
Pack so loud, you can smell it through compressors
Work straight drop, it was cooked by professors
Pimp-C pints, nothin' more, nothin' lesser
Plastic in my pocket, but them racks in the dresser
You got your city on fire, go get on the road
This shit bigger than your block, go fuck up the globe
Life told "stay focused boy, go get on your mode"
My life a movie, sit back and watch the episodes
Less niggas', extra hoes, you hangin' wit Mr. Cooper
Me and (?) blowin' Hookah, gotta stylist and a booster
My mom; I salute her, couple whores that'll line you
Some cousins that'll shoot you wit them ladders like a roofer
We got Whitney & Bobby, meet me in the lobby
The percs still poppin' cuz my brother Pill Cosby
Steaks from Del Frisco's, still go to Max's
Balenciaga sneakers, I treat em like Air Maxes
Therapeutic king size from a air mattress
Your pop was a rat, that make you a rat bastard
Mason (?) tile on my floor: Grand master
(?) like Jam-Master
We all gotta grave, that mean we all equal
My fans, I don't even call fans, they're my people
Fuckin' wit my day 1's, today and tomorrow
You don't even owe me shit, cuz you can have it
We don't borrow
[Hook: Quilly]
Aye, I just wanna live my life
Chillin' in the hills all night
Floatin' in a Phantom all white
If I can do it, I would do it twice
Aye, all night
Haha, all right
[Ending: Quilly]
Turn me up! "Quilly 3" nigga
Yeah! 3rd time around nigga
Uh, uh. Aw! don't take my adlibs either
Haha, keep all that, keep all that, we rollin'