letra de #fuckyalungsup - fashionist
[pre-chorus]
b-tch
yeah, yeah, f-ck
shout out my brother, keep flippin’ that pack
play with a n-gga, he gettin’ you whacked (pop-pop)
pop out in london get a n-gga shanked
i’m wit’ my brother gettin’ to that bag (shut the f-ck up, n-gga)
[chorus]
that n-gga ryuin tried to run up on me
we left a fat n-gga in the street
we put a f-ck n-gga in the sheets
why these n-ggas f-ckin’ playing with me
f-ck you, f-ck them, n-gga, hate on me
this n-gga so gay, why he bouncin’ on meat
i could never hang with no lame ass n-gga
should of saw n-gga been talkin’ on me
b-tch ass boy been walkin’ on me
and i got rick owens all on my tee
n-ggas so mad they all tryn’ eat (ry-)
ryuin mad, he just tryn’ feast
i count my check, make money, repeat
you a lil’ sad, you can’t even see
n-ggas want war, yeah, they want beef
n-ggas want war, yeah- (sh-t)
[verse 1]
pull up wit’ chops, n-gga got that ‘k
ryuin got pole, but he gay
ryuin got pole, but he ain’t got sh-t
n-gga that’s yo’ dad’s stick
every picture, i see yo’ fat ass lips
run from the cops, man i’m dashin’ it
b-tch, i don’t need to be passionate
got a b-tch, that call me fashionist
yo’ hoe on me, b-tch, i’m smashin’ it
i count the racks, b-tch, i’m bagging it
i count the racks, b-tch, i’m- (aye)
[verse 2]
two hoes, like, two guns
smoke gas, f-ck yo’ lungs up
i been, motherf-ckin’ balling, on these n-ggas, they suck
both hoes, hit my phone, callin’, i’m just tryn’ see us f-ck
all these n-ggas think they is, you not, better, out of luck
watch out, you gettin’ baited, b-tch boy, finna’ get slumped
talk sh-t, you get caught up (run up, run up, run up, run up)
[verse 3]
run up, you get f-cked up, ryu’ a lil’ ass twink
i smoke, premium stuff, talk sh-t, you getting jumped
b-tch i- b-tch i do (i’m like)
what’s the move
i’m like what you sayin?
glock 19 tucked on the waistband
n-ggas talk sh-t, want me act cool
hop out the van, i’m sprayin’
hit that hoe, real quick
n-ggas be talkin’ no debating
[pre-chorus]
b-tch
yeah, yeah, f-ck
shout out my brother, keep flippin’ that pack
play with a n-gga, he gettin’ you wacked (pop-pop)
pop out in london get a n-gga shanked
i’m wit’ my brother gettin’ to that bag (shut the f-ck up, n-gga)
[chorus]
that n-gga ryuin tried to run up on me
we left a fat n-gga in the street
we put a f-ck n-gga in the sheets
why these n-ggas f-ckin’ playing with me
f-ck you, f-ck them, n-gga, hate on me
this n-gga so gay, why he bouncin’ on meat
i could never hang with no lame ass n-gga
should of saw n-gga been talkin’ on me
b-tch ass boy been walkin’ on me
and i got rick owens all on my tee
n-ggas so mad they all tryn’ eat (ry-)
ryuin mad, he just tryn’ feast
i count my check, make money, repeat
[outro]
what, aye, b-tch
f-ck ryuin, n-gga
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