HiTek Tek

Lyrics

Freeband Gang
 Yeah-yeah
 Hi-Tech Tech, yeah-yeah
 Big old jet, yeah-yeah
 Big ass tit, yeah-yeah
 Big ass bitch, yeah-yeah
 Thick lil' shit, yeah-yeah
 I'm gettin' my money, yeah-yeah
 I'm gettin' this rich, yeah-yeah
 Straight out the crib, yep
 I'm straight out the trench, yep
 I'm straight out the trench, yep
 I'm straight out the trench, yep
 The trench of the trench (Woo)
 They drank on the floor
 I started, I pour
 But not no more
 Hop in that go-go-go-ghost, I'm on go mode
 We drivin' every single car you want, send in the dope, ho
 She like to ride when I go jugg, I got a dope ho
 Make me sing to your bitch, K-Ci, JoJo
 Every day, every night, go to the moon
 All of my niggas geeked up in the room
 Paradise, shoot my one and two
 Astronaut takin' off, I got the proof (Yeah)
 Perky medics (Yeah, yeah)
 Head from Becky (Yeah, yeah)
 Gold baguettes (Yeah, yeah)
 Gold presi' (Yeah, yeah)
 I be down in Houston like Kareem, I'm a rocket
 Drank the drank and popped a couple beans, now I'm cocky
 Came through the game and took that shit like I was robbin'
 Chain rings, earrings, please proceed with cautions
 Courtside, I'm sittin' at the game with a Glock in my pocket
 All my niggas bang, brr, clear out the cartridge
 Go inside of Chanel store and start poppin'
 I told you, I'm rollin' off a bean-like Scotty
 Yeah-yeah
 Hi-Tech Tech, yeah-yeah
 Big ol' jet, yeah-yeah (Big ol' jet)
 Big ass tit, yeah-yeah
 Big ass bitch, yeah-yeah (Big ass bitch)
 Thick lil' shit, yeah-yeah
 I'm gettin' my money, yeah-yeah (Hi-Tech Tech)
 I'm gettin' this rich, yeah-yeah
 I'm straight out the crib
 I'm straight out the trench, yup
 I'm straight out the trench
 I'm straight out the trench, yup
 The trench of the trench (Woo)
 They drank on the floor
 I started, I pour
 But not no more
 Yeah, I fill up a cup with that red
 And I know it might kill me (Hi-Tech Tech)
 I throwed on the animal print and it got me bougie
 I sold my coke in the cold, the sweater was Coogi
 I can't forget my bros, we make a zoovie
 I am not supposed to be fuckin' these
 Bitches, they jockin' my dick on the low
 I got her on lean (Woo), I got her on beans (Woo)
 She down to my team, man, I'm cuttin' up a ring, man
 Fully loaded magazines, shout out to the gangland
 And I can't even sleep
 I been already geeked for seven days
 Put the wood on that Banshee
 I position her more than seven ways
 I got black cards and Visas, I'm gettin' paid
 I'm sittin' in the dark, ain't got shades
 Take all the tablets and go to space
 Hi-Tech Tech, yeah-yeah
 Hi-Tech Tech, yeah-yeah
 Big ol' jet, yeah-yeah (Big ol' jet)
 Big ass TEC, yeah-yeah
 Big ass bitch, yeah-yeah (Big ol' bitch)
 Thick lil' shit, yeah-yeah
 I'm gettin' my money, yeah-yeah (Hi-Tech Tech)
 I'm gettin' this rich, yeah-yeah
 Hi-Tech Tech
 Hi-Tech Tech, Hi-Tech Tech (Yeah-yeah)
 Hi-Tech Tech (Yeah-yeah)
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:02
Key
2
Tempo
150 BPM

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