letra de parlay - bfg straap & jetsonmade
[intro]
lets go
aye
gotta middle
no cap
go straight in
aye
oh lord, jetsonmade another one
[chorus]
aye, on my way back from la, was nervous cuz i left uh
hundred (bowls?) in uh b-tch truck, with the (vellay?)
kick the b-tch up out my (?), look like im in ballet
if the feds at the spot, we run out the back way
we gon’ push out with sticks and i’ll blam n-gga that way
f-ck the school n-gga, yhea i used to sell weed on the highway
n-gga gon’ die if a shot come my way
n-ggas ain’t hittin’ sh-t must be aimin’ at parlay
[verse 1]
through with yo b-tch, makin’ sh-t like kong fu
n-gga play, all you gon’ see is red lights (gotta move)
n-gga’s career life like 50 did (?)
ain’t n0body got pounds, but i do
go talk boutta b-tch boutta n-gga that is not coo’
like straap why you stay wit a strap?
cuz i got too!
headshot uh n-gga if he make one false move
got sticks in this b-tch, say what n-gga?
rob who?!
hit the trap house pack nd’ i beat it out
imma whip out with (?) when i leave it out
hey, took that b-tch back to the house ain’t no eatin’ out
say twelve, we don’t stop for the cops and we speedin’ out
twenty cashed up, in my denims my skin is too tight it looks like i can’t fit em
we drop uh bag on the op and they get him, straap (?) big boss, not uh man in the middle
i don’t play with cocaine got pleased with mamajuana, won’t go back and forth imma boss you a renter
no don’t fight this stick he like adrian burner
ain’t no strafin’ up boy like a pakistan (?)
bad b-tches love my persona, bust that b-tch, gave that b-tch back, i don’t want her
droppin’ hit back to back, gon’ be rich by the summer
chasin’ the bag in broad day, i done ordered uh hunter
[chorus]
aye, on my way back from la, was nervous cuz i left uh
hundred (bowls?) in uh b-tch truck, with the (vellay?)
kick the b-tch up out my (?), look like im in ballet
if the feds at the spot, we run out the back way
we gon’ push out with sticks and i’ll blam n-gga that way
f-ck the school n-gga, yhea i used to sell weed on the highway
n-gga gon’ die if a shot come my way
n-ggas ain’t hittin’ sh-t must be aimin’ at parlay
[verse 2]
hard on my brother, by b-tch (?)
which one?
so many times i woke up, can’t pick one
ran that sh-t up, fat pockets like big (?)
send uh load, then make yo hoe go and get guns
n-ggas don’t be on sh-t, boy they actin’ like sitcoms
scammin’ im tryin’ to go buy me some big coin
nd’ uh n-gga keep goin’ i call that that (?)
(?)
[chorus]
aye, on my way back from la, was nervous cuz i left uh
hundred (bowls?) in uh b-tch truck, with the (vellay?)
kick the b-tch up out my (?), look like im in ballet
if the feds at the spot, we run out the back way
we gon’ push out with sticks and i’ll blam n-gga that way
f-ck the school n-gga, yhea i used to sell weed on the highway
n-gga gon’ die if a shot come my way
n-ggas ain’t hittin’ sh-t must be aimin’ at parlay
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