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letra de ​​​​​​contraband - ​arpsweatpants & 870glizzy

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[intro: arpsweatpants]
ayy-yo, cc
yeah, go-go
huh, huh, arp, yeah
woah, woah, yeah, go
huh, yeah-yeah, arp, the biggest

[chorus: arpsweatpants]
oh, you not tryna die, huh? (oh)
walk wit’ that pole if he tryna some’ (grrah)
they think i’m lackin’, but i got my eyes on ’em
i know he cappin’, he don’t got that fire on him
woah, shoutout my plug, he move h-ll of bricks (let’s go)
i got a lesbian plug, she legit (yeah)
got through tsa with the stick (grrah)
contraband in my briefcase, it’s a brick (yeah)

[verse 1: arpsweatpants & yvgnahh]
got banned from my city, p-ssy, you a b-tch (b-tch)
you’re banned from my car, i ain’t playin’ yo’ sh-t (i’m not)
i’m tryna rob, and i’m takin’ your stick
got a baseball, bluff, and let off a pitch
like i’m bird watching, finna let out the pigeons (yeah)
i feel like gr8tah!, boy, why is you b-tchin’? (why?)
sit in silence, but they really be temptin’
she be screamin’, but i just put the tip in (yeah)
like certified, catch an all-night flight
i stay strapped, but i still keep a knife (i do)
they pull me over, and i might get life (yeah)
i got ar pistol, and it’s choppin’ his height (grrah)
bad [?], but she not my type
she an athlete, she ride like a bike (she do)
feel like ‘dami, i’ma do some’ slight (yeah)
one wrong move, and i’m ending your life
[verse 2: 870glizzy]
feel like i’m cudi, i post in block all day and night (ayy, ayy)
i caught an opp’, then i finna get right (what)
send him downtown if i catch an opp’ at the light (b-tch)
brodie came through tryna fight, how the f-ck you are, mike tyson? (who, ha)
let his ass throw in the fist, i’ma throw up the pipe
he runnin’, the f-cker finna fight for his life
what you gon’ do when this sh-t hit the fan? (hittin’ the fan)
what you gon’ do when this sh-t hit—
and i kick in the door when my bro’s servin’ grams
back to that regular, hustler program
what you gon’ do when this sh-t hit the fan? (what you gon’ do?)
what you gon’ do when this sh-t hit—
and i kick in the door when my bro’s servin’ grams (grams)
back to that regular, hustler program (alright)
b-tch, where i’m from, everybody on drugs
we be slingin’ dope when you own it, n-gga, it’s either of the above (either one)
i had to [?]
come home with junkies on my mommas’ couch (d-mn)
b-tch, i remember this sh-t like it was yesterday, right when my bro’ [?] (yeah)
give me a contraband, who am i judge a man? (who am i?)
brodie, go and get yo’ bands, n-gga, do what it takes, i understand, n-gga
i was robbin’ free bands, n-gga
my brodie serving out the xans’, n-gga, type of xans to k!ll—, n-gga
we was runnin’ through the streets, they’ll never own me
[verse 3: yvgnahh]
ayy, what
b-tch, i got me that strap, hit him wit’ that piece
he wanna track, take him to the meet
hit that b-tch in his face, make that n-gga leak
said he got guns, lyin’ through his t–th
i see that p-ssy, why you tryna creep?
he actin’ tough talking through a screen
see that b-tch in the whip, shoot him in my seat
i’m finna crack sh-t, hit a l!ck
my n-ggas in the field, in the mix
got me that [?] with the [?]
he talking stupid, got a lisp
said he gon’ slide, no, that n-gga won’t
[?]
that n-gga [?], put him in a roach
i k!ll that n-gga, then i k!ll his folks

- arpsweatpants 870glizzy

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