Guyanese-American rapper and singer, Carlos St. John Phillips, is known professionally as Saint JHN he joined forces with London On Da Track.
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Read and learn the lyrics to ‘Stadiums‘ by Saint JHN and London On Da Track.
Saint JHN Ft. London On Da Track – Stadiums Lyrics
Intro
Oh-woah, oh
Oh-woah, oh
We got London on da Track
Chorus
Whole club selling out of here to doing stadiums
Pussy niggas don’t come around, they don’t survive my radius
I keep it too real, for real and that’s the shit that made me rich
Trapping, that’s what made me rich
Hustling, that’s what made me rich
Hey, whole club selling out of here to doing stadiums
Small business don’t come around, they don’t survive my radius
Trapping all I talk about and that’s what really made me rich
Hustling, that’s what made me rich
Trapping, that’s what made me rich
The whole club, ayy, ayy, ayy
Verse 1
McLaren way too white to be shooting at the opps
I’m sleeping good at night, see, the door don’t got no locks
I fucked her to be spiteful, she best friends with the opps
Them bitches that you buying bags, you need better stocks (Ayy)
Standing on my money, dawg
Please, don’t get the gun involved
Ain’t nobody running off, ooh, to them basics
I can’t be no son in law, I can’t take the summer off
I make it look good and all but this is no vacation
All the goons they respect me and I know it
Watch your words and your tone, you’re not a poet
My advice, please, don’t try to be heroic
Niggas with me know they (Gone)
Chorus
Whole club selling out of here to doing stadiums
Pussy niggas don’t come around, they don’t survive my radius
I keep it too real, for real and that’s the shit that made me rich
Trapping, that’s what made me rich
Hustling, that’s what made me rich
Hey, whole club selling out of here to doing stadiums
Small business don’t come around, they don’t survive my radius
Trapping all I talk about and that’s what really made me rich
Hustling, that’s what made me rich
Trapping, that’s what made me rich
The whole club, hey-hey, hey-hey
Verse 1
McLaren way too white to be shooting at the opps
I’m sleeping good at night, see, the door don’t got no locks
I fucked her to be spiteful, she best friends with the opps
Them bitches that you buying bags, you need better stocks (Ayy)
Standing on my money, dawg
Please, don’t get the gun involved
Ain’t nobody running off, ooh, to them basics
I can’t be no son in law, I can’t take the summer off
I make it look good and all but this is no vacation
All the goons they respect me and I know it
Watch your words and your tone, you’re not a poet
My advice, please, don’t try to be heroic
Niggas with me know they (Gone)
Chorus
Whole club selling out of here to doing stadiums
Pussy niggas don’t come around, they don’t survive my radius
I keep it too real, for real and that’s the shit that made me rich
Trapping, that’s what made me rich
Hustling, that’s what made me rich
Hey, whole club selling out of here to doing stadiums
Small business don’t come around, they don’t survive my radius
Trapping all I talk about and that’s what really made me rich
Hustling, that’s what made me rich
Trapping, that’s what made me rich
The whole club, hey-hey, hey-hey