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letra de coulda shoulda woulda - christ dillinger

[verse 1: christ dillinger]
all a this rick got these broke n-ggas mortified
he tried to run up found out my crib is fortified
big ass ar in his face make him run and hide
n-ggas is characters, rigby and mordechai
all of this pain in my life. b-tch i gotta stunt
n-ggas in my hood they call me the chosen one
i drop a perc’ in my drink and i go to work
p-ssy be snitchin’ so i gotta watch my words
he said these rick owens can’t fool me they ksubi jeans
wit’ my b-tch and yo’ b-tch and my d-ck is between
my b-tches grown and yo’ b-tches be seventeen

[verse 2: caspr]
two b-tches on me, you know that ain’t choosing me
the opps stupid, think that they foolin’ me
they walk to the mall for some jеwelery
i walk in this house with somе louie v
i put racks in the bag, and i’m doin’ me
and i’m poppin’ a perc’ in a faucet
you gotta pay just to talk to me
your girl, yeah she’s gonna pay to get off of me

[verse 3: christ dillinger]
pressin’ these xans in my house wit’ alprazolam
fiends be so high they start doin’ the running man
said he got robbed from a boy, i don’t give a d-mn
i got a plug and he look like george lopez
he meet me with bricks and some p’s at the motel
i robbed a n-gga and he look like uncle phil
my plug went to sleep and woke up i was trappin’ still
fiends coming back and it’s looking like silent hill
[verse 4: caspr]
ha, grab her
got your b-tch, she wanna cha-cha
don’t deal with the talk and the ra-ra
gotta a gl!ck with no safety go fa-fa
i’m planning on spending that ah-ra
you can’t hate if you sending the opps-a
making noise and i know that you not hot
you talkin’ sh-t, then we makin’ his face drop
sippin’ on [?], i’m sippin’ on straight drop

[verse 5: christ dillinger]
i’m on the dark web i’m ordering h-lla pills
bust me a piece and finna pay h-lla bills
i sold a bag way before i had sold a rhyme
n-ggas be trappin’ get caught and can’t pay the fine
back in grade 9 i was servin’ dimes
all of this ice in my watch i can’t tell the time
this ruger shoot bullets that’s thick like your finger
we move that white girl in the city topanga
sipping on lean and its costing a n-gga rent
hop off a jet and pull up in a brand new benz
i got a bunch of blue pills in my prada bag

[verse 6: caspr]
look at my mouth, she trust you where the water at
lost all my benz and they rain out but got it back
coach gon’ be hussle so you know i never slap
go to the top, and i swear i ain’t comin’ back
[verse 7: christ dillinger]
whole lotta racks in my bank account
said he was trappin’, his trap hold a small amount
choppa on me and that sh-t go like dooda-chooda
suckin’ my d-ck and she goin’ like googa-googa
that n-gga broke, he just a woulda, coulda, shoulda

- christ dillinger

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