letra de jerzey - flamo
[intro]
n-gga we dirty [x8)
[chorus]
girl i’m young rich and black getting money like them folks
if i pull up to your momma house they think i’m sellin’ dope
ain’t no hope for a young g.o.a.t. vibin’ through my city
said she love 2pac but she vibin’ out to biggie (baby)
love how you doing them dirty, i got to f-ck them up early
b-tches be tugging my jersey, feeling like james, too worthy
told her retire my jersey (n-gga we dirty)
told her retire my jersey (n-gga we dirty)
[verse 1]
flow god going live, whole squad going up
not just on a tuesday, n-gga any day i give it up
all the smoke, we with all the smoke, wheat timbs’ and my army coat
loud look like artichoke, yankee on me, looking honorable
flow god, wave god, free the wave, word to max b
lot of homies still in the streets, cause them boys like they money tax free
good girl play wife now, but her -ss used to play in backseats
to some backstreet or blackstreet, she was pop with it and r&b
never let a hater bother me, n-ggas jealous and it’s in they face
get a band and throw it in they face, big vibe put em all in they place
still cookin’, good lookin’, sleeping on the boy woke me up
hennessy and i soak it up, pain had a n-gga choking up
smooth told a n-gga open up, spirit bleeding through all my records
boy talk word to t lanez, got shooters if he talking reckless
real n-ggas in the fan base, freak hoes in the fan base
boy hate when i come around, see the look on the man face
[chorus]
[verse 2]
dirty, all this sh-t can get dirty, he in the kitchen and it’s early
white v all pearly, bad b-tch talk dirty
dirty like she ‘bout a turn 30, might just fly to her the dirty
skrrt, young boy do ‘em dirty, skrrt, young boy do ‘em dirty
dirty money from a p-ss off, ‘cuz he in the back getting bags off
cops pull him over right now, he’ll catch 50, like it’s half off
he ain’t worried ‘bout his future neither, boy catching l!cks and his mask off
he got brothers doing bids, brothers on the block, couple people switched, friends turn opps
pops in the street, momma working nights, so he play the hood, tryna earn his stripes
tired of being broke, tryna get it right, they live in the day, he live in a night
in da ps with the gs rolling dice, pickup game do ‘em dirty in the mikes
shooters with ‘em if you reaching for the ice, i was malcom x in another life
by any means, no skinny jeans, i’m a real player, no willie beam’
no silly memes when the beef up, let my dawg get you while my feet up
got ya mamma thinkin’ that i’m keyed up, but i went to college, put degrees up
i put pressure on ‘em, never ease up, b-tches wipe me down ‘cuz i’m fleed up
[chorus]
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