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letra de don coreleone - blue pesos

[intro]
pay attention, n-gga, class is in session
no bullsh-t (verse2)

[chorus]
tell a n-gga show respect, i’m don corleone
good fried dope packs, b-tch, it’s forty-one
i’m just a rapper, he ain’t thought to bust that .40, huh?
ain’t seen a hundred, bet a hundred n-ggas more than broke
tell a n-gga show respect, i’m don corleone
good fried dope packs, b-tch, it’s forty-one (sh-t)
just a rapper, he ain’t thought to bust that .40, huh?
ain’t seen a hundred, bet a hundred n-ggas more than broke

[verse 1]
n-ggas more than broke, n-ggas h-lla jokes
you won’t get yourself up for some sh-t you ain’t ready for
hold a grudgе, you should know this forever smoke
gеt a n-gga riddled with these clips, i’m don corleone
i’m the one to charge, in other words, the boss
i’m just a rapper, haha, ’til the .40 spark
he got a wack jumper, get this n-gga off the court
tell a n-gga, “come outside, please”, i’m sick of huntin’ for you
just send the lo’, ain’t no biggie, saved a hundred for you
tyrannosaurus clips, we’ll flip a dinosaur
it was a 21-o, peep the final score
he thought he had the perfect play, i knew all along
broke b-tch, you gotta go, you don’t belong here
if that’s your opp, how the f-ck you do a song with him?
get up on me in person, f-ck the long typin’
be prepared, we might hit you with an assult rifle, ugh
[chorus]
tell a n-gga show respect, i’m don corleone
good fried dope packs, b-tch, it’s forty-one
i’m just a rapper, he ain’t thought to bust that .40, huh?
ain’t seen a hundred, bet a hundred n-ggas more than broke
tell a n-gga show respect, i’m don corleone
good fried dope packs, b-tch, it’s forty-one (sh-t)
just a rapper, he ain’t thought to bust that .40, huh?
ain’t seen a hundred, bet a hundred n-ggas more than broke

[verse 2]
i’m don corleone, hit him with this tommy gun
put this sh-t in gear, ’cause we don’t really got no time to waste
for a fee, sh-t, she might the time of day
it’s 12:18, sh-t, i might got the time today
sh-t, these songs startin’ to sound like poetry
creepin’ through the dark with bart simpson, n-ggas know it’s me
i ain’t the type to really talk, let the .40 speak
“ooh, b-tch, ain’t that p? hope he notice me”
give me, give me, then i’m out of there
i swear to god, this ain’t enough, [?] a tree in there
catch me runnin’ through the pots and pans, f-ck the silverware
any funny thoughts, we’ll shoot him out his vapor match

- blue pesos

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