a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de go get it - deenero & lando

[intro skit]

lando:
i said it i need it so b-tch imma get it
i wrap it i sell it post office i mail it
pull up runnin’ down, not askin’ who said it
my n-ggas get cash we don’t use no credit
swerve on your block imma scheme to get it
he lookin’ at me so mean not stressin’
this sh-t she do for the team is a blessin’
i just smoked some weed now the ceilimg is stretchin’

that lil b-tch she a fiend for attention
got in her ovaries now she overly obssesive
the flow is agressive
i pray to the lord that they never forget me
never regret me
doin’ the race hope the police don’t catch me
free lil tay yea that boy he a demon
murder she wrote & im writin’ the sequel
sh-t gettin’ serious while hot
summertime no n-ggas lurkin ’round blocks
we takin your chain & your kicks & your watch

cash on my mind got a stash in a ziploc
big glocks n-ggas talkin down get your lip locked
when sh-t pop n-ggas gettin low like hopscotch
told her don’t watch face yea ’cause the block hot
yea she mine ’cause she knoe i got the guap, yea
watch me pull up in a 2 door drop top
watch me flex on these n-ggas ’cause they not hot
(they not, they not!)

get to the cash you kno imma get it
got dee in the booth & we cookin up lettuce
these n-ggas be scared they know how we comin’
we gon’ pull up & we don’t do the runnin’
the 100 round drum in 1 shot then we done him

deenero:
lil n-gga im bouta make it
money dont care bout that fame sh-t
fly n-gga pull up in a sp-ceship
n-ggas they see me won’t say sh-t
you can’t be me n-gga face it
hop inna rarri we racin
bich wanna cuff me she basic
i need it now im not patient

i get it i got it got dope from the tropics
money so fat keep fallin out my pocket
b-tch im no snitch i got dimes i won’t drop it
you hatin on me tell that f-ck n-gga stop it

i got a ap you go blind if u watch it
b-tch steady frontin you kno imma block it
you can’t be my migo if you act too hotty
got 30 missed calls man that b-tch on my body

b-tch on my d-ck & she want be my lover
p-ssy so good i almost shot the club up
b-tches be sus i be strapped wit the rubber
i beat it, i skeet, delete it, i dub her

run it up n-gga we hot like the summer
n-ggas so phoney they be undercover
flex when i drip i be ballin like rucker
you won’t catch me slippin thats word to my mother

all i think about is tryna get my dough up
run it up a couple hundred in my sofa
neva lackin couple hundred in the toaster
like a bag i tote that heat up in my holster

make sure my n-ggas eat i gotta keep.my bros up
f-ck these b-tches we dont eva cuff these hoes up
n-ggas hatin on me gotta keep my foes up
neva trust them keep on grindin get that dough up

- deenero lando

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS