Netflix – Song and Lyrics by 2 Chainz

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Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Netflix’ 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.

Yeah, uh-huh

I smoked a blunt for dinner
another blunt for breakfast
2 Chainz, got ’em staring at my necklace
Let’s make a sex tape and put it on Netflix
Let’s make a sex tape and put it on Netflix
She got it, I want it, I want it, she got it
I’m dodging paparazzi
My outfit from Versace
Copy, copy, all these niggas just copy (copy)
I just bought me a new watch
And these new niggas just watchin’ (tell em)

I know you had the time of your life
I know you had the time of your life
You know I’m gettin’ money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty
I’ll be countin’ this shit all night

I know you had the time of your life
I know you had the time of your life
See yeah I’m gettin’ money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty
I’ll be countin’ this shit all night

When I die, bury me inside the liquor store
‘Cause when I die, Fergie still gon’ be gettin’ dough (ohh)
You do what you can, I do what you can’t
You smoke that Bobby B-B-Brown, we on that Shabba Ranks
I got it, you want it, you want it, I got it
My girls go shopping, that ain’t a mall, that’s my closet
So copy (copy), copy, all these bitches just copy
Honor student wit’ double Ds
That ain’t the bra, that’s my ta-tas

I know you had the time of your life
I know you had the time of your life
You know I’m gettin’ money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty
I’ll be countin’ this shit all night

I know you had the time of your life
I know you had the time of your life
See yeah I’m gettin’ money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty
I’ll be countin’ this shit all night

Yeah
Yeah
I’m gettin’ to the monies, with an apostrophe
Fucked her on a pile of clothes now she a closet freak
Yeah I bear arms, I got something up my sleeve (BOW)
And when she wit’ me, she don’t wanna leave
She just wanna freak (she do), she don’t wanna sleep
Put it in her mouth (mouth) now she don’t wanna speak (Tru)
Yeah I’m at the club, I got strippers at my table
I call doin’ the 69 a favor for a favor
From the cradle to the grave (uh)
Shoot a nigga from his ankle to his waist
You can tell that I’m paid
‘Cause I’m high-class
Fucked a bitch in her eyelashes
we in a jet, who gon’ fly past us?
Tint all on my eyeglasses, I don’t see ya hater (yeah)
And I don’t get dropped, bitch I drop the label
Goddamn!