High life
Yeah
Welcome to Atlanta, jackin' hammers and vogues
Back to the mackin' and jackin' the clothes, adolescent packin' a four
A knock on the door, who is it? I would happen to know
The one with the flow, who did it?, It was me I suppose
JD in the Rolls and Luda's in the Cut Supreme
Skatin' down Old Nat, gat tucked and leaned
I split your spleen, as a matter of fact I split your team
No blood on the sneaks, gotta keep it so my kicks is clean
I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams
I'm allergic so doc prescribed antihistamines
Oink oink, pig pig, do away with the pork
Only silverware I needs a steak knife and a fork
Did you forget your fuckin manners? I'm Bruce with Banners
Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when I shoot the cannons
The Wooly Mammoth Sabretooth, bitch bite your tongue
I won't stop until I'm rich as them whites'll come
I pulled up in the black Lotus, your plaques are bogus
So I stripped them off the wall
Waitin' for my cue to corner pocket eight balls
You rackin 'em up
I'm big paper like pancakes, stackin' 'em up
In fact I'm slappin 'em up, Cadallac'n the truck
I can't loose with twenty-two, bitch that's what's up
Runnin' in the back to fuck, better tha-than the aquaduct
Chil-li-li-li-lin', fli-pi-pi-pi-pi-n, what?
Yo, yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' (uh-huh)
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' (yo, uh)
Now the party don't start 'til I walk in
And I usually don't leave until the thang ends (uh)
But in the meantime, in between time
You work yo' thing, I'll work mine
I been puttin' it down here since '83
Since the Lakeshore-MD rivalry
When Frozen Paradise was the place to be
If you was ridin', you was bumping to homie Shy-D
I'm the M.B.P., Most Ballin-ist Player (uh-huh)
Make my own rules, bitch call me the mayor
Monday night, Gentlemen's Club
Tuesday night, I'm up in the Velvet Room, gettin' fucked up
Wednesday, I'm at Strokers on lean
Thursday, Jump Clean, then I fall up in Kream
Friday, Shark Bar, Kaya with Frank Ski
Right on the floor is where you can find me
Saturday, is off the heezy for sheezy
You can find me up in One-Tweezy
Sunday, is when I get my sleep in
'Cause on Monday we be at it again, holla
Yo, yo, y-y-yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, jackin' hammers and vogues
Back to the mackin' and jackin' the clothes, adolescent packin' a four
A knock on the door, who is it? I would happen to know
The one with the flow, who did it?, It was me I suppose
JD in the Rolls and Luda's in the Cut Supreme
Skatin' down Old Nat, gat tucked and leaned
I split your spleen, as a matter of fact I split your team
No blood on the sneaks, gotta keep it so my kicks is clean
I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams
I'm allergic so doc prescribed antihistamines
Oink oink, pig pig, do away with the pork
Only silverware I needs a steak knife and a fork
Did you forget your fuckin manners? I'm Bruce with Banners
Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when I shoot the cannons
The Wooly Mammoth Sabretooth, bitch bite your tongue
I won't stop until I'm rich as them whites'll come
I pulled up in the black Lotus, your plaques are bogus
So I stripped them off the wall
Waitin' for my cue to corner pocket eight balls
You rackin 'em up
I'm big paper like pancakes, stackin' 'em up
In fact I'm slappin 'em up, Cadallac'n the truck
I can't loose with twenty-two, bitch that's what's up
Runnin' in the back to fuck, better tha-than the aquaduct
Chil-li-li-li-lin', fli-pi-pi-pi-pi-n, what?
Yo, yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' (uh-huh)
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' (yo, uh)
Now the party don't start 'til I walk in
And I usually don't leave until the thang ends (uh)
But in the meantime, in between time
You work yo' thing, I'll work mine
I been puttin' it down here since '83
Since the Lakeshore-MD rivalry
When Frozen Paradise was the place to be
If you was ridin', you was bumping to homie Shy-D
I'm the M.B.P., Most Ballin-ist Player (uh-huh)
Make my own rules, bitch call me the mayor
Monday night, Gentlemen's Club
Tuesday night, I'm up in the Velvet Room, gettin' fucked up
Wednesday, I'm at Strokers on lean
Thursday, Jump Clean, then I fall up in Kream
Friday, Shark Bar, Kaya with Frank Ski
Right on the floor is where you can find me
Saturday, is off the heezy for sheezy
You can find me up in One-Tweezy
Sunday, is when I get my sleep in
'Cause on Monday we be at it again, holla
Yo, yo, y-y-yo, yo, yo
Y-y-yo yo, yo-yo-yo
Yo yo-yo-yo, yo-yo, yo
Y-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo-yo-yo yo
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Welcome to Atlanta, where the players play
And we ride on them thangs like every day
Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin'
And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'
Add your thoughts
Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.
Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!
More Featured Meanings
when rules change
Life in Your Way
Life in Your Way
Battle Royale
Word Alive, The
Word Alive, The
This song is def a twin to "Unfair" (a song she has been quoted as saying is about falling in love with someone who is already in a relationship) so it is presumably about the same person. Given the references to buying an apartment and not being able to see her love interest "after tonight," it's most likely that she's moving away and she'll "wait a day to break the bad news" (i.e. notifying him that she's leaving once she's already gone).
And, of course, the fact that she sees in him a fellow "idealist" and "dreamer" (terms commonly given to people with the INFP personality on the Myers–Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI)) portends that she'll always be left wondering if they would've been perfect together.
Fortnight
Taylor Swift
Taylor Swift
The song 'Fortnight' by Taylor Swift and Post Malone tells a story about strong feelings, complicated relationships, and secret wishes. It talks about love, betrayal, and wanting someone who doesn't feel the same. The word 'fortnight' shows short-lived happiness and guilty pleasures, leading to sadness. It shows how messy relationships can be and the results of hiding emotions. “I was supposed to be sent away / But they forgot to come and get me,” she kickstarts the song in the first verse with lines suggesting an admission to a hospital for people with mental illnesses. She goes in the verse admitting her lover is the reason why she is like this. In the chorus, she sings about their time in love and reflects on how he has now settled with someone else. “I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary / And I love you, it’s ruining my life,” on the second verse she details her struggles to forget about him and the negative effects of her failure. “Thought of callin’ ya, but you won’t pick up / ‘Nother fortnight lost in America,” Post Malone sings in the outro.
Mental Istid
Ebba Grön
Ebba Grön
This is one of my favorite songs. https://fnfgo.io
Bron-Y-Aur Stomp
Led Zeppelin
Led Zeppelin
This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
This song basically sums up why hip-hop/rap sucks these days. With lyrics like "Oink Oink, Pig Pig, do away with the pork," I could write better rap lyrics than these guys. Brittney Spears lyrics have more meaning that this crap. Stay away from Ludacris if at all possible.