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letra de space - codiene jerm

[verse 1: fyg tuff]
aye, i rock two three on my back cuz i feel like the greatest
i f-ck that b-tch with the drank b-tch i’m faded
im deep in that p-ssy i’m slaying like jason
no time for b-tches or hoes till i’m famous
hop in the coupe ima race it to vegas
woke up this morning your b-tch getting naked
opp steady plotting gone leave his block shaking
i get, i get the guap (guap)
my bands coming with knots (knots)
choppa gone heat up the block (gah,gah)
gang gang sh-t we on top (grrah)
all about money no thots (thots)
wet up, wet up his bih like a mop
get up, get up my guap (hoo)
the bass in my music i let that bih drop
(aye, d-mn, you ain’t smoking no boof in yo blunt then what you doin
gang, skrrt, skrrt, b-tch)

[chorus: fyg tuff]
i don’t got time for these b-tches or hoes, just give me sp-ce (sp-ce)
hop in the coupe ima race (race)
these b-tches on me but these b-tches basic
my choppas giving out facelifts, my music all in your play (yah, yah)
riding round dirty in the car with the gang (yeah, gang, yeah)
body bag opps on the hit list
[verse 2: codiene jerm]
stashing the bricks in the bas-m-nt
i can’t be rocking no fake sh-t
none of my shordies is basic, they not the barbies you play with (bad, bad)
pour up the lean in a sp-ceship, i make a scene like the matrix (yah, yah, yah)
i got some hitters they asian, i got a plug he jamaican (yao ming)
ten toes he can’t walk a mile in my shoes (no)
ten bad hoes turn em down for the loot (bad b-tch)
switchblade open up the doors on the coupe (b-tch)
ben frank i told all the hunnids turn blue (hunnids)
let the chopstick take a pic ima blam it (brrow)
ima break her back like her spine was ceramic (no)
spitting big facts smoking dope in a hammock
he a real rat tryna snitch for a sandwich
i don’t pay no mind when these n-ggas sneak dissing
i was in the blind now i’m seeing clear vision (yeah)
pouring up a pint, crack seals and i’m sipping
open up my mind i ain’t got no limit
let the choppa spray i’m in the hills of la (of la)
if he want some beef draco sing like ella mai (ella mai)
ima pay the lawyer when i shoot out with the k
told the b-tch give me sp-ce then i woke up at the bank

[chorus: fyg tuff]
i don’t got time for these b-tches or hoes, just give me sp-ce (sp-ce)
hop in the coupe ima race (race)
these b-tches on me but these b-tches basic
my choppas giving out facelifts, my music all in your play
riding round dirty in the car with the gang
body bag opps on the hit list
[verse 3: turbo cj]
they know he can sing but can he rap ?
house made of brick and burglar bars look like the trap (big bricks)
all these old n-ggas, they keep worrying about my bag (whats in it?)
don’t worry about whats in it, its a sack and a strap
choppa getting close it’ll blow off your cap (woah)
drove in the explorer then took him off the map (aye)
f-cking on your b-tch she dug her nails into my back (ooh)
shipping off the pack in a seal like a vac (uhhh)
they wondering what i’m doing like i’m in a white van
come out with the 5th ooh i got a nice hand (d-mn)
i been f-cking roxanne but i don’t wanna be her man (nope)
and the drip unreleased, you gone have to spend a band
hit these b-tches with the in and out minute man (ooh)
but don’t get it twisted baby i ain’t minute maid
your gold look like p-ss matter of fact lemonade (uhh)
choppa gonna clip him he might never walk again (d-mn)
thought his n-ggas had his back, now he depending on a cane (d-mn)
body not artificial she’s a natural of the game
if she fat from the back i don’t care bout her face
can’t trust a b-tch so i f-ck her at her place
can’t save a hoe i ain’t never like a cape (no)
these n-ggas fruit he get crushed like a grape (yeah)
she love the stars in the roof of the wraith , when i f-ck in the car look like we off into sp-ce (but)

[chorus: fyg tuff]
i don’t got time for these b-tches or hoes, just give me sp-ce (sp-ce, yeah)
hop in the coupe ima race (race)
these b-tches on me but these b-tches basic
my choppas giving out facelifts, my music all in your play
riding round dirty in the car with the gang
body bag opps on the hit list (yeah)
[outro: turbo cj]
mmhmmm, uhh huhh, yeah, sp-ce coupe
in the sp-ce coupe yeah, in the sp-ce coupe
mmm, mmm, yeah

- codiene jerm

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