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letra de 50 missed calls - ray vicks

[intro: ray vicks]
godd-mn it’s like 7:30 in the morning, my phone jumpin’ off the meter
i got like 50 missed calls
you know a n-gg-‘s girl couldn’t even sleep, this b-tch jumpin’
me and my n-gg-s, we really get money man
we really do run through tons of that sh-t n-gg-
pounds, blocks, bales n-gg-
believe that n-gg-, yeah

[verse 1: ray vicks]
i got fifty missed calls, sh-t that’s fifty plays
i done ran up fifty grand less than fifty days
ain’t been home sixty days and i’m getting paid
i told my n-gg- keep on hustlin’, it’s gon’ get you paid
them p-ss-es hatin’, we totin’ them k’s, a hundred rounds in ’em
fifty missed calls n-gg-, my trap phone ball n-gg-, yeah
and i can’t never take a break
i’m hustlin’ hard, movin’ weight in every state, i don’t play
get it in every night and day, whippin’ up that microwave
my mama prayin’, hopin’ my life change
i’m still in the game, sellin’ that white girl
just tryna get rich in this white world
fifty missed calls

[chorus: ray vicks]
my phone ringing all night, my b-tch p-ssed off
wake up in the morning, fifty missed calls
my trap phone gettin’ off
i got fifty missed calls
my phone gettin’ off
i got fifty missed calls
my phone ringing all night, my b-tch p-ssed off
wake up in the morning, fifty missed calls
my trap phone gettin’ off
i got fifty missed calls
my phone gettin’ off
i got fifty missed calls

[verse 2: moneybagg yo]
my whole city love me
i got like fifty haters
you got like fifty hitters
i got like fifty takers
got a fifty on this nine, will blow him out his mind
the judge batted my n-gg-, fifty years for that crime
i been hiding, since i dropped i done did like fifty plus shows, yeah
and they 20k a pop, lookin’ at the schedule, i got fifty some more
all i know is run it up, sh-t all i know is eat, yeah
on the lear, 30k for the seat
n-gg-s from the nba with me
i done f-cked like fifty hoes and still don’t love not one
now a n-gg- piped up, now a n-gg- iced up
last year i ain’t had none’
my b-tch called, i done missed her call, i was gettin’ to the cash
yeah my wrist yellow, it’s p-ssed off, i done blew a real bag

[verse 3: yfn lucci]
fifty missed calls, fifty mixed broads
i got fifty mixed broads, a fetish for jaws
young boy ball, young boy ball
take your b-tch and get lost
send her back with nothin’ at all
hit me back, i missed your call, i’m on road
my bank account on good lord
get out that weight like rick ross
heard you can’t get a zip off, yeah
run down with that stick, don’t get caught, yeah
you know i’m good with that stick like we playin’ lacrosse
i got in and out
i got friends, good or bad, right or wrong
i’ma send about, spend a band about
you know i’ma get that paper n-gg- even in a drought
and you know one thing they’ll never do
they’ll never count me out, yeah

- ray vicks

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