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letra de 80 dime bagz (boomin) - chris travis

b-tch hit me up tell me that i want sh-t
i hit her back and said “b-tch you better lick the d-ck”
ridin round round town ain’t got sh-t to do
my d-ck was h-lla soft i nutted on her gucci shoes

80 dime bags boomin’ like alicia keys
ten b-tches cold wh-r-s sniffin’ h-lla keys
i ain’t trippy but my n-gg- gon be on lsd
red eyes gold teeth tell me that ain’t sleaze

pull up on a college b-tch and take her to micky d’s
number eight, large fries, dollar sweet tea
gold hair and long chain just like ice t
threw on my black frames then i hit the trees
hit the reefa, my girlfriend look like queen latifah
in the eighties, i’m a f-ckin’ nineties baby
tryna join my flock of st–ze, cuz you must be crazy
i’m a lazy -ss n-gg- when i beat my d-ck

80 dime bags boomin’ like alicia keys
80 dime bags boomin’ like alicia keys
80 dime bags boomin’ like alicia keys
ten cold wh-r-s, sniffin’ dirty keys
80 dime bags boomin’ like alicia keys
80 dime bags boomin’ like alicia keys
80 dime bags boomin’ like alicia keys
ten cold wh-r-s, sniffin’ dirty keys

b-tches on my d-ck cuz they know i got the lean
black kray and chris travis b-tch that’s h-lla st–ze
got my n-gg- ethelwulf rollin’ up the green
got my fingers all sticky staring at that pink
n-gg- what’s in your cup, what the f-ck you think?
got this b-tch on my d-ck askin’ for a drink
and f-ck you posin’ -ss n-gg-s always tryna scheme
hoe this how we live n-gg- what the f-ck you mean?
shake junt, shake junt, when i’m on the scene
drink might be purple or it might be green
ion really give a f-ck bout what you n-gg-s think
just leave me alone before i get that beam
i’m bout f-ckin’ b-tches and illegal things
me and my n-gg-s we be chillin’ playin’ saints row 3
shake junt, shake junt, what the f-ck you mean
shake junt, shake junt, b-tch we bout that green

we all off in the party h-lla hard we got the bars
the b-tches fiending and they all wanna be p-rn stars
i took her to the car cause i didn’t park far
we hit the store to re-up on tips and to get ‘gars
and now she fallin’ hard tryna f-ck me in the car
she high as f-ck she do not know where the f-ck we are
my fingers got the scars dime bags selling hard
i’m in the melting servant cause the sacks selling far
and n-gg-s know about it cause it’s tracks to the tar
we smokin’ where we are indo-in’ out of the stars
i’m bangin’ sh-t h-lla hard, 80 sacks for the calls
and i should get an applause for the way i get her draws
and i ain’t even tryna throw no salt up on yo seasoning
but boy i be the reason yo b-tch is always creepin’
so next time she tell you not tonight she feelin’ sleepy
you should take a listen at my bedroom squeakin’
b-tch

- chris travis

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