Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Good Drank 2.0′ by 2 Chainz. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 2 Chainz or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Used to treat my mattress like the ATM, yeah
Bond number 9 that’s my favorite scent, yeah
Can’t forget that kush, I’m talking OG, yeah
Rest in peace to pop, he was an OG, alright now
285 I had that pack on me, uh
I cannot forget I had that strap on me, yeah
Rest in peace to my partner Doe
All we ever want to do was ball
That was the easy part, we playing that Weezy hard
We sit in the kitchen late, we tryna to make an escape
Tryna make me a mil, so I’mma keep me a plate
I told ’em shawty can leave, so I’mma keep me a rake
So I’mma keep me a Wraith, my jewelry look like a lake
Today I’m in a Maybach
And that car came with some drapes
You know I look like a safe, I put you back in your place
You know I look in your face, sing to your bitch like I’m Drake
Good drank, big knots
Good stuff, I put a four on the rocks (lean!)
Drop top, no hot box
12 tried to pull me over, pink slips to the cops
She said the love give her thizz face
Put that thing in her rib cage
Whips out, Kunta Kinte
Diamonds clear like Bombay
Taking babies, no Harambe
Play with keys like Doc Dre
3K like André
And your girl, tell her come here
It’s Gucci!
Your trunk in the front
Well check this out my top in the trunk
You play with my money
Then check this out you’re poppin’ the trunk
Three mil in a month
But I just did three years on a bunk
Oh, you in a slump
I’m headed to Oakland like Kevin Da Runt
What is your point?
Square with the stamp, f*ck Kevin Durant
Lay on my trap
Play with my cap and I’ll knock off your hat
I’m taking the cheese and killing the rats
Gucci Mane, call me the cat with the racks
I’m swervin’, but I’m in back of the ‘Bach
Persian, man I got hoes from Iraq
I’m servin’, I pay a bird for that
He nervous, I ain’t got no word for that
He hurt and want all of his purses back
He mixing the syrup with the Percocets
She perfect and she got perky breasts
I just want some of that turkey neck
Trapper of the year, I’m from Bouldercrest
You snitch of the year ’cause you told the best
Good drank, big knots
Good stuff, I put a four on the rocks (lean!)
Drop top, no hot box
12 tried to pull me over, pink slips to the cops
She said that love give her thizz face
Put the thing in her rib cage
Whips out, Kunta Kinte
Diamonds clear like Bombay
Taking babies, no Harambe
Play with keys like Doc Dre
3K like André
And your girl, tell her come here
Favorite rapper, that’s 3K
Yeah sir that’s my DJ
Mike Dean on the piano
Put the work on the E-way
Guwop right next to me
So you know Bouldercrest with me
Man it’s hard for you to mess with me
Now you’re looking at the best really
Diamonds dancing like Bentley
Might leave in a Bentley
Kinda hard to get with me
Can’t believe it like Ripley
Pretty girls like trap music
Man I used to want a condo
Started off in the basement
Ended up on the top floor
Yeah, you listening to the top flow
Now you looking at the top tier
From grams to the Grammys
Told y’all it was our year
Told y’all it was my year
Told y’all it was my year
Told y’all it was my year
Man you looking at the evidence
Yeah God, that’s my president
Hell nah, I don’t hesitate
I ain’t met a girl can curve me
Let a motherfucker set it straight, for real