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letra de mad at us - 15-12 budd

[intro: wooski]
let’s get it, gang sh-t
shout out to the gang, man
r.i.p. and free my n-ggas, man (fbg, man, clout boyz sh-t)
all that there, b-tch, gang

[chorus: wooski]
b-tch, we clouted up
b-tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
b-tch, we clouted up
b-tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
[verse 1: wooski]
y’all ran out of luck (f-ck the opps)
shooters wilding in them cuts, me and my gang be going nuts (tooka gang, turn up)
shout out cray cray, cashout, and my broski duck (foe ‘nem)
and b-tch, you must be from halsted if you think you gon’ get cuffed (silly b-tch, gang)
all that sh-t you talk to me, boy, it’s a bluff (you ain’t getting no bread)
can’t never lack in chiraq, my boys too rough (there go them k!llers)
pull up on your b-tch, i’m like, “what up?” (skrt skrt, skrt skrt, skrt skrt, get down)
they scared to post on their block, we let guns fuss (glah, glah, grah)

[verse 2: 15-12 budd]
they call me jaro city budd, n-gga
ruger with that thirty-three, we send them slugs, n-gga
tutu gang, n-gga, we don’t show no love (ttg)
we hit your block all-black with the gloves (with them gloves)
wet his p-ssy-ass up like a tub (he wet)
all you seen was a puddle of blood (d-mn, he leaking)
now, me and wooski and [?] throwing dubs (f-ck up a check)
we f-ck the check up, then we might rob the plug (give it here)

[chorus: wooski]
b-tch, we clouted up
b-tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
b-tch, we clouted up
b-tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
[verse 3: electrik]
one big strap and a two-seater
i don’t do lean, but my n-ggas drink by the liter
that’s why these boys mad, ’cause they gotta pay for a feature
i don’t do tricking, only thing i pay for is sneakers (uh)
i love my b-tch, i’ll never say, “i don’t love these hoes” (yeah)
i be shining for diamonds, keep a yellow b-tch just to match my gold (just to match my gold)
on the grind, you can tell how the paper stack and fold (uh)
that’s real n-gga sh-t ’til the casket closed

[verse 4: va the mobster]
yeah, we got ’em mad as f-ck (uh-yea)
approach me wrong, i’m letting the pistols bust (bah)
and trust
n-gga, you f-cking with gs, not f-cking with thugs (uh-yea)
really ’bout that action (uh-huh)
and all of my n-ggas, we really be packing (we packing)
and subtracting
all these fake-ass, flaw-ass n-ggas that really be acting (uh-yea)
all that gutter gutter sh-t that you talking ’bout
n-gga, it ain’t gon’ make you last that long (unh-uh)
’cause shawty be good with the chrome
bringing that pressure right to your home (uh-yea)
really ’bout that bread, though
but strapped with them choppers just like commandos (commandos)
this game get greasy (huh)
and when it does, i’m letting the things go
[chorus: wooski]
b-tch, we clouted up
b-tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
b-tch, we clouted up
b-tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup

- 15 12 budd

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