letra de shooting guard - arierr
b-tch, i always come in first, never in last place. you would never catch me chasing hoes; i’m busy chasing pape. human made tee, but it’s goat in my dna. stop with all the questions, lil’ dawg, this is not a q&a
rocket on me; if i launch this b-tch, he’s going straight to sp-ce. if this was a race, y’all wouldn’t win; y’all in last place. you would never catch me outside unless i’m at the bank. i’ll throw this whip in sports mode and avoid the brakes
when i was down on my ass, i couldn’t call on you. fit $2,000; if i get dressed, i’mma sauce on you. h-ll hounds with me; you play it crazy, put them dogs upon you. if you switched up, it’s f-ck you, and i’mma ball on you
one me out with two hoes, yes, i’m big turnt. i don’t eat mcdonald’s; lobster tails in my surf ‘n’ turf. b-tch, stop the talking; can you show me how them lips work? we are not the same; yo ass lame, and yo pockets hurt
i was in class jugging hams; i was a bad student. can’t trust a b-tch, been in my bag trying to dodge cupid. you don’t touch pape; why the f-ck is yo mouth moving? boi brought his girl to the function, now his thot choosing
this lil’ hoe said, “arierr broke,” girl, you sound stupid. asking if i’m up is like asking if the clouds are moving. she gave the brain for 2 hours, now her ass clueless. you ain’t pape, then this convo is now concluded
remembering times when i was down, gotta thank the lord. i was on the site punching up; you were doing chores. if you ain’t getting pape, what the f-ck are you living for? on an opp block swinging sticks like i’m dumbledore
lay a hand on mine, the quickest way to get you sent to heaven. only thing blue yo ass got is a text message. saying you the plug, but one call could get you disconnected. knocked the site out with this punch like i’m playing tekken
when i take a look up in the mirror, that’s when i see a star. she could be a motherf-cking surgeon, couldn’t get my heart. b-tch, i’m on the road; back seat filled with visa cards. you ain’t coming out; leave proximities all up in yo yard
bro flying around with heavy metal like he tony stark. yeah, i got that feeling i’mma blow ’cause i know i’m hard. i’ll pull up and drop 30 like a shooting guard. this ain’t in the mall; it’s hard to find like some shadow shard
you in rookie mode, lil’ dawg; we in hall of fame. let us hear it’s up; we’ll turn yo block to a shooting range. you can send the pape, then i block you; that’s a fair exchange. boy, yo ass hurting, i can tell like i’m mj paid
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