Expensive Taste Lyrics by NBA Youngboy is latest English song with music also given by Jason Goldberg, Str8cash, Badmarks & D-Roc. Expensive Taste song lyrics are written by Jason Goldberg, D-Roc & NBA Youngboy.

Expensive Taste Song Detail
| Song Name: | Expensive Taste |
| Singer: | NBA Youngboy |
| Composer: | Jason Goldberg, Str8cash, Badmarks, D-Roc |
| Lyrics by: | Jason Goldberg, D-Roc, NBA Youngboy |
Expensive Taste Lyrics
F**k them racks, I keep a card, I got the glock in the middle
Know I’ma spin ’bout my ni**a
I told her hit me on the way, when she headin’ home
I’ma have it lookin’ nice when she get here
Real hitta, band ni**a, expensive bottle for bi**hes
Made ni**a wit’ millions, straight from the bottom my ni**a
Gravedigga’ and you know he don’t tolerate mentions
Dirty choppa if he ever got a problem with ni**as
Big issues, he ain’t trippin’ cause his sack thicker
Wonder how she feel that she finna get married to that ni**a
Got to know I’m ready, she know I been waitin’ plenty minutes
And she too bad for them jeans, can’t do no skinny dippin’
Ain’t never worried ’bout these ni**as, I do the realest pimpin’
Mink coat, styrofoam dope, how I walk up in it
From off the porch, they’ll never know how these diamonds glistin
Made it out, young ni**a been on suicidal mission
I got on gang attire ni**a, this be the best of linen
Ride in a lincoln, wit’ [?], no I don’t need your lendin’
She think she got one up on me
I blew a bag on my homie
I got a chance and I boned it
Think all these ni**as are phony
Wake up and smoke in the mornin’
I rep that flag wit my blood
These ni**as know that I’m on it
I let off shots in the club
And these bi**hes wanna be my mommy
But you know you not my girl
Flood her finger with diamonds
No, I can’t turn up your world
This a new [?], better have your s**t together when you see me
Ni**a know I’m covered down in green
But for a fact, I’m bleedin’
Ni**a knowin that I’m strapped
You better clap soon as you see me
Won’t buy her anything, but flood my sister for any reason
Cocaine white like I’m sellin’ drugs
That’s a new foreign off the lot for my thug, why?
Cause he been wit’ me way before I even knew who I was
Lil shorty wit’ me and she got me, she don’t care ’bout no buzz
1942 get her drunk, she gon’ leave wit’ a buzz
The feds on me, watch how I talk, I think they planted a bug
What the f**k wrong wit’ me?
Spent a couple million, wake up then the label sent another million
Ain’t no slippin’, on my pimpin’, got it on me know I’m grippin’
Every time I sent a blitz they zipped ’em, rare they fail a mission
Cause they know we get it done, as usual, how we come
Let ’em keep thinkin’ I’m dumb, I’m never done
Check how my pockets, got them mumps
Check how them draco’s got them drumbs
Make a beat like a band, flood her wit’ bands
Make her so hot, they gon’ think she got a tan
Ni**a know I’m known to buss my gun
For a fact I ain’t never ran, this who I am
Better speak clear or I can’t hear what you sayin’
F**k them racks, I keep a card, I got the glock in the middle
Know I’ma spin ’bout my ni**a
I told her hit me on the way, when she headin’ home
I’ma have it lookin’ nice when she get here
Real hitta, band ni**a, expensive bottle for bi**hes
Made ni**a wit’ millions, straight from the bottom my ni**a
Gravedigga’ and you know he don’t tolerate mentions
Dirty choppa if he ever got a problem with ni**as
Dirty cutter, crazy how it chop and clean up the block
Won fights inside the hood
Lost fights inside the block, it never stop
Come from the ground, I ain’t use a crane, I rushed to top
Play wit’ them glizzys like shmurda, they know that lil ni**a hot
And I got ten cars, I ain’t never showed the s**t that I got
I could have ten broads
But ain’t nothin’ worth the bi**h on my side
Could be the best one recordin’
But ain’t nothin’ worth jason spot
I get in, then hit it hard, then I cum on her twat
He can be a robber, bet that ni**a won’t stick his hand in my pot
Cut off his arm, bet he won’t say that he took off on ai
I had it hard, I walked on feet, but now fly on a g5
Hope he don’t think he could gee me, I ain’t goin for no g, five
And that my blood, he get it brackin’, he got to war when we firin’
Yea, that my 10 to then end, we gon’ spin
Got dior on my gla*ses, and got nick behind the lens
Just me, my sister, my momma and girl, no I don’t need no friends
I don’t got a gun, I got a knife for when they kickin’ in
I’m sleepin’ lightly throught the night, just incase casper in
I got them capsules in new york, and they got molly in it
Imagine every friend wit’ the s**t, just don’t let holly in
F**k them racks, I keep a card, I got the glock in the middle
For to buy a flight and get away after I pop me a ni**a
I take a flight and get away cause I can’t tolerate ni**as
Got to get mine, straight out the gate
Hustlin’ for more than eight figures
F**k that money, got a black card, my glock in the middle
Know I’ma spin ’bout my ni**as
He this and that, but tell me how the f**k do they figure
He worried ’bout any one these ni**as or these bi**hes (how, how)
F**k them racks, I keep a card, I got the glock in the middle
Know I’ma spin ’bout my ni**a
I told her hit me on the way, when she headin’ home
I’ma have it lookin’ nice when she get here
Real hitta, band ni**a, expensive bottle for bi**hes
Made ni**a wit’ millions, straight from the bottom my ni**a
Gravedigga’ and you know he don’t tolerate mentions
Dirty choppa if he ever got a problem with ni**as
It’s slimeto, lil top, ai
Youngboy ni**a, kentrell

