Steve G. Lover Featuring Childish Gambino – No Hookahs Lyrics

(Intro – Childish Gambino 2X)
Suddenly Relevant
White girls on me you would think that I was selling it
Black girl with me with a trunk like a elephant
Took her to the suite and she gave me intelligent Ya!

(Verse 1 – Childish Gambino)
Let the game speak for me
Are you doing these numbers? I don’t think you are homie
I’m a real ni**a, I don’t tweet about it
If I see you in the streets we can speak about it
And you all up in my business you should keep up out it
I know you ni**as doubt it
Met her backstage
Say my new s**t classic and won’t age
Giving two s**ts on my green like woo sticks
Got no time for loose lips
What the f**k did y’all say?
Four seasons in Miami, I was like LeBron James
Had to tip the valet, know he wanna steal it
Young rich ni**a, that’s the s**t I got to deal with
Old white money, that’s the s**t I got to deal with
Had a head start, how’d I catch up?
Got a hard drive, and it’s backed up
Couple hits if you need em you should ask us
I’m the new mace, all my girls a diddy
I got a new face, all my girls is pretty
I call it good taste, ni**as can’t buy that
Summer in Hawaii man these ni**as can’t try that
Bring back the source, BTI where the fives at?

(Chorus – Childish Gambino)
Just pass me the paper
Pass me the vapor
Don’t pass me the hookah
Cause I don’t really smoke hookah
No I don’t really smoke hookah
Put weed in my hookah

(Verse 2 – Steve G Lover)
I don’t do the hookah ima roll a dutch
28 grams on hand, that’s so f**king much
Roll it up, keep a bad bi**h if that ain’t enough
Shorty so clutch, gotta a gram in her Gucci clutch
I’m on OG, keep it OG
Catch Zs on the flight
I had a couple blue dreams
Caught that case in Sweden, man a
Ni**a need to tighten up
All black Porsche, black car, I should light it up
Roll a joint, I told my bigger brother light it up
Hotel smoke free, I don’t really give a f**k
Bad girls make the cell phone beep
She go both ways, that’s a two way freak
Bust a u-ey up on lennox, that’s a two way street
I was whipping in the spider, not the kind with eight feet
Hit spots, make it hot, like without the AC
On that purple all day, man shoutout to AP, Aye, aye

(Repeat Chorus)