Lil Durk – Big Dawg Lyrics

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She want that big bag, she don’t want that lil’ girl shit
I just get mad when you on that lil’ girl shit
ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob

Drink a six down, tell your bro to stop to get a kit
Worth them Ms, now me and my lil’ brother got a stick
Drunk a Xan down, woke up and forgot what I had said
My shit jet brown, new Dior sneakers kinda slick
Why would I lie on him?
Think he slick ’cause he tried to take his brother off
Why would I lie on him?
One n**** can’t stop the killings, only money talk
Why would I lie on him?
Gotta watch the sneaky hoes snatchin’ rubbers off
Why would I lie on him?
I told you to your face, you’re a snake, so cut the brother talk
Why would I lie?

Tried to skrrt off, you get clapped though, let the thirty off
Ever shot at in a Maybach, knock your curtains off
I feel like n***** gonna tell you start the prayer talk
I aggravated you, you dumb, you scratched the numbers off
Oh, hell nah, Chicago star, don’t want them bell bums
Could’ve got out early, but they caught him with a cellphone
You can’t tell me nothin’, I’m with the murders, I’ma stand on it
You can’t tell me nothin’, them n***** different, can’t compare ’em to me

Pull up with a stick, pull up with a big gun
Pull up with a stick, pull up with a stick, uh
Hit up with a switch, he don’t even know where he hit from
Worried ’bout my bitch, you don’t even knowin’ what your bitch doin’, uh

I’m so rich I bring the barber in the club
I’m so rich, I’m with the robbers in the club
You end up snitchin’, then you not a part of us
Bitch, this a Patek, this is not a Cartier

Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?

This n**** called my phone, fifty grams, n****, that’s patty cake
I don’t even fuck around with no scales, n****, that’s petty weight
All my bitches be in the kitchen cookin’, got they ass bakin’ cakes
Could’ve went to school for culinary arts, I would’ve went every day
Thought I’d have my CDL license, fucked up that interstate
Hit the road, gettin’ to that cash, bitch, I’m a heavyweight
I’m a big dawg, I’m a big dawg, I’m a big (Go, go, go, man, what?)
I’m a big dawg, I’m a big dawg, I’m a big dawg (Go, go, go)

I’m a problem with that trappin’ shit
Don’t call my phone if you ain’t never fuckin’ wrapped a brick
A thousand-eight grams I cop, I need my whole lick
Got reputation in the trenches, I don’t ever miss

Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?
Where you get that shit from?

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