Elegant Southside & LUCKI
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Elegant" by Southside & LUCKI. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro: LUCKI]
Ayy, I still drink—, I'm a-
You, ayy, ayy
[Chorus: LUCKI]
I still drink syrup on the regular
Devil at the door I thought about lettin' her in
I still never choose y'all over medicine
I'm a dumb jock, five thousand on the letterman
How I make junkie look elegant?
Tune don't like nobody and he yellin' it
[Verse: LUCKI]
You can ask, "How much for a verse?" But it's irrelevant
I think all you niggas flat and I'm prayin' you get back
In Sky-ami in the Bentley, I still rather it be a Track
M-O-B, this shit the biggest, crush whoever in the path
Niggas think they own yo' soul if they helped you in the past
She think I'ma lie on one, she don't sell it, but it was cap
I sent money back home, I thought I made it off that
I ain't even know what was comin', these niggas sold they soul for that
I can act like shit 'bout money, but I be speakin' what's on my mind
But I be takin' it for what it is
I can't even feel my face, know my—
I can't even feel my face, know my heart pumped nun'
I make youngins run the huddle
I got richer because I'm stubborn
And I still can't fake it 'cause it'll embarrass the ones who love me
If it get ugly, they'll probably go and risk it all for me
I be hopin' they relate, but your life too different for me
And I still can't—, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, I still drink—, I'm a-
You, ayy, ayy
[Chorus: LUCKI]
I still drink syrup on the regular
Devil at the door I thought about lettin' her in
I still never choose y'all over medicine
I'm a dumb jock, five thousand on the letterman
How I make junkie look elegant?
Tune don't like nobody and he yellin' it
[Verse: LUCKI]
You can ask, "How much for a verse?" But it's irrelevant
I think all you niggas flat and I'm prayin' you get back
In Sky-ami in the Bentley, I still rather it be a Track
M-O-B, this shit the biggest, crush whoever in the path
Niggas think they own yo' soul if they helped you in the past
She think I'ma lie on one, she don't sell it, but it was cap
I sent money back home, I thought I made it off that
I ain't even know what was comin', these niggas sold they soul for that
I can act like shit 'bout money, but I be speakin' what's on my mind
But I be takin' it for what it is
I can't even feel my face, know my—
I can't even feel my face, know my heart pumped nun'
I make youngins run the huddle
I got richer because I'm stubborn
And I still can't fake it 'cause it'll embarrass the ones who love me
If it get ugly, they'll probably go and risk it all for me
I be hopin' they relate, but your life too different for me
And I still can't—, ayy, ayy, ayy
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