|
|
Download Now!!!
Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyricist: Yung Mal
Lyrics:
Noisy on the beat
First things first If a nigga ever cross the line, I'll put his ass in the dirt Second of all I'm puttin' in work I run this shit up, we ain't never gon' hurt Keep that shit real, that's third No nine-to-five, my niggas, they slang on the curb They get the check by the fourth Gotta front auntie that dope, she gon' get on your nerves I stay with that four-fifth, go to the club, go straight to the vip I done got rich, I'm still in the six Huh, young nigga stayed down, came up from a sandwich They talkin' plates, we already ate Everybody got a sack, nigga, we straight Niggas gon' hate, huh, okay I bet this nine make his ass lose weight
Judge gave my brother ten He hit a move for eleven bricks Don't fuck with 12, I'm never gon' snitch The trap behind me, that's thirteen sticks Pull up to your trap and a bomb full of nicks, yeah Stood on that Candler Road, 1'5 shit, hah New condo on 16th Street, got seventeen hoes gettin' geeked Eighteen hundred for Prada, that's on my feet Gotta keep Glock-19 Never goin' out sad, that shit in your dreams Niggas ain't gang, they dub Young niggas with me ain't 21, still in the club I heard that boy got hit up They say them folks hit his ass like twenty-two slugs Two-twenty-three, that Lebron Twenty-four for the Rollie, it wet like a pond Whole twenty-five, I'm a don Keep shooters with me, I still got my gun, nigga Broke nigga, go get funds, nigga I bring your ho to Plug block and we beat up her tongue, nigga I got the drop on the opp, don't go back and forth, we gon' give him straight fun, nigga
First things first If a nigga ever cross the line, I'll put his ass in the dirt Second of all I'm puttin' in work I run this shit up, we ain't never gon' hurt Keep that shit real, that's third No nine-to-five, my niggas, they slang on the curb They get the check by the fourth Gotta front auntie that dope, she gon' get on your nerves I stay with that four-fifth, go to the club, go straight to the vip I done got rich, I'm still in the six Huh, young nigga stayed down, came up from a sandwich They talkin' plates, we already ate Everybody got a sack, nigga, we straight Niggas gon' hate, huh, okay I bet this nine make his ass lose weight
Need like ten, just get in Eleven thousand on the front end I bet I handle that business, it come in Run through them bands, they get blew like a fan Them shooters pull up in Sedan And they got bomb, Saddam Gelato four-five in my lungs These niggas pussy, need pompoms Big Pissy, wrist is flooded, need ganja Gang gon' hold it down if I ever go under Got more pull than a Toyota Tundra I run it back when they fumble Big B's with me, no bumble Big C's with me, no crutches No, I don't gangbang but I got love for all my brothers So many hundreds, they bust out the duffle I play my cards how they dealt, no shuffle They know that Candler get hot like a pepper No Kappa, no Alpha, my young niggas steppers Shawty came up, they ain't help her Rockin' Balenciaga, no Maison Margiela I'm with my niggas, we go wherever I'll sell you whatever They got that dope, but my shit better Keep cheese like I'm taking a picture I got cheddar, huh Fucked as soon as I met her, huh If you know better, do better, huh Nigga went broke tryna get on my level She ride that dick like it came with pedals One check big as your settlement I got shooters in the front and the back, just like a president Gucci'd down, cost your rent (Gucci, yeah, hah) LyricsFreak
Download Now!!!
|
Copyright © 2020 Zortam.com. All Rights Reserved.
|