Ooh, shit, that´s a Danny G beat Huh, ayy, everything from the gangsta, you Huh, everything from the gangsta, you unplug the
Everything from the gangsta, you unplug the cord
I know he sittin´ there wishin´ I could un-fuck his whore I know he sittin´ there wishin´ we could un-up the score Y´all whole gang fucked up, y´all just fucked up galore You bought your whip fucked up, I just fucked up my Porsche Bitch, clean this nut up, you just fucked up my shorts I take the automatic, and now I fuck up up North Too much money in the dresser, I done fucked up my drawers My mind racin´, runnin´ to the paper, no time waste Throw my B with a M, then 7-2, no sign language He never got to live through his prime, he died basic
Balenciaga-aga-aga, these hoes cost five aces You still share a parkin´ lot, I´m a driveway-er Boy, you stuck where it´s cold, militia, we some migrators I ain´t lit a beeper phase, unky, he had nine razors I pop out playin´ brown tee, I´m not a my player This bitch cost a thou´, he was a rat before he passed, throw the coffin out What I´m puttin´ in my lungs, I might cough one out You never bought a Hellcat, just to dog one out, grr
Hoes used to have cooties, now they got the clap They had a series against the gang, now they ´bout to pack Talkin´ ´bout the scams dead, let me guess, they ´bout to trap
Talkin´ ´bout a weddin´ ring, this bitch off a pound of crack If ain´t no ERD jeans, Earth and VIP me Fine the shit out the group, I got DID Bs If you ain´t DSM, can you D-l-E please? Usually scream Unky, but it´s free my TT Wouldn´t buy your bitch Kony, she can eat my pee-pee Ride ´round, ninety shots, probably think I´m three deep Ride ´round, three-hundred grams, probably think I´m Chief Keef I go stupid up in Sacks, probably think I´m RiRi Couple seconds left shootin´, I´m just thinkin´ GG I´ma hit ´em where it hurt, I´m just thinkin´ deep three Love the crib, but for the summer shit, I´m thinkin´ Peach Street
Long hair, fake butts, shitty thinkin´ he me
J-Dub and Shea, me and Fuzz tucked up under If the gang on your slip, best not go for under Shitty boy, I might get a bust, rose gold plunder I turn the Faygo cream to Bobo´s color Bahamas or Jamaica? Bae, go get your passport You know what I came from, I won´t forget your last four Creatin´ fake beef, oh, you hashtag that board I got two Benji trinks on the Digi dashboard Must´ve had a red rapper ´cause they´re Kitty Kat tour This is not a white tee, silly, it´s a dance floor Could´ve played the Goyard 50 in the JanSport I slide, slide, slide, forgive me, said my hands sore
Know they call me Megatron, Jimmy finna transform Ball Harbor, Blue 60, really could´ve cashed more Go against the team, that´s a really bad choice You a hit-drank heathen, lil´ silly-ass boy Stop askin´ for the sauce, go cook and find the recipe This psilocybin got me sweatin´ like some ecstasy Bitch, you wouldn´t be my bae out in Chesapeake I´ma slam you through the bed, we can´t wrestle free Unk gotta play for the, I done Dundee I´m a YN cut on tune, not no Bun B Can´t believe you cuffed the old girl, that lil´ butt stink You should go and try to buy Ritz from lil´ Chuck Stink Yeah, I know I´m rich, but don´t trust me We´ll slam him out, throw him in the toilet flushin´
Lamar, Jack, ex-vic, try and rush me I told you that I want a Fanta, please don´t try to crush me I´m on forty-five milligrams, please don´t try to bump me That´ll be the worst mistake that you ever made My big fella James shoot like he Escalade Don´t hit that blunt too hard, boy, your chest gon´ cave
Huh, is your chest okay? We sent a .50 out the drum, is your vest okay? It ain´t no way How was that? He outta there? Seven-seven, double seven, Troncic Seven-seven, double seven, Troncic
Accueil
💃🎤 Paroles de chanson Française et Internationnales