💃🎤 Paroles de chanson Française et Internationnales 🎤💃

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Artiste : Doe Boy
Titre : Massacre
Doe Beezy
Ahem
Yeah, Face, you already know what the fuck goin´ on, you know how we coming

Oh, really?
Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh
Buh, buh, buh, buh
Yeah, let´s go, let´s go, uh, uh

Real niggas stand up (Go)
I be poppin´ shit, I got my rubber bands up (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Her bestie in the lobby, bitch, go bring your friend up (Come here)
Before you drop a diss, bitch, go dig your mans up (Fool)
I be really playin´ with choppers, I ain´t into playin´ tough (Grrah)
I wish you could ask the last nigga that ran up (Grrah)
Fuck niggas fold, real niggas stand up (Pussy)

Nigga, I ain´t told, nigga, when I got jammed up (Facts)
​iPhone thuggin´, let me see you blam somethin´ (Woah)
Don´t make me grab my burner phone, I´ll send a hit on Samsung (Nah, for real)
Bet I make her panties drop, she see that fuckin´ Lamb´ come (Uh, come here, baby)
Blue and yellow in my watch, look like the fuckin´ Rams or somethin´ (Oh, really?)
I done fucked the same hoes as Odell Beckham in my city (Nah, for real)
Come and flex it, Smith & Wessons fuckin´ stretch ´em in my city (Baow, baow, baow, baow)
Nigga came here playin´ crazy, so we left him in my city
Just dropped four bodies, told Deshawn Watson, "Welcome to my city"

Got that blicky-blicky, up the switchy, bitchy, I get busy
Look at my pockets, fat like Cartman, bitch, I´m probably who killed Kenny (No, for real)
Know he happy the police grabbed, don´t try to kill my nigga Jimmy (Face, Face Mob)
´Cause if he had to meet, young Johnny was blazin´ his face up with a fifty (Face, Face Mob)

It´s a Louis V, codeine sippin´, money fetish (Yeah, yeah)
It´s a bad bitch, made her bring her friend, girl, we selfish (Bad, phew)
Say they laid him, cooked him in the mornin´ like he breakfast (He gone)
Go to the dealership, I want the long Range, yeah, the Stephen

Steppin´, shh, what´s that noise? (Haha)
Niggas writin´ checks they can´t cash, they all void (Lame-ass nigga)
Catch me in your town, pop a pound like I´m Roy (Face)
My daughter say she want Chanel purses, fuck a toy (Oh)
Cutthroat out the soil, rest in peace to Keed, man, I can´t believe (Rest in peace)
Ironic ´cause I´m on my way to Cleveland, goin´ to fuck with Beezy (Doe Beezy)
Last night was geekin´, said I love you, I ain´t even mean it (What?)
What you know about them murders? Gotta be strategic (Shh)
Is you really in the field or watchin´ from the bleachers? (Which one?)
When they see that money pile up, niggas turn to leeches

Why the fuck did I need school? I´m richer than the teachers (Why?)
I done lost track of time, every day it´s Easter
Cup pink, it´s fresh as hell, ice go to bail
Money in that bitch, let her go, wait to exhale
Federales moderate my ´Gram, too much YSL (Hot, hot)
He say he in the game, but what side? Do you buy or sell, nigga?