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letra de where the bitches at - gizmo (japan)

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[verse 1: gizmo]

d-mn what you want me say?
how i smash different girls on different days
though i try that i can’t escape my father’s ways
or i gang bang talk slang make the ak spray

not even
pack your bags y’all trippin
i’m leaving
y’all want to hear bout the cash that i’m heaving
on the weekend
never sleeping
peeling shots
mothers weeping

but but who gives a f-ck
n-ggas only want get turned up
bang it in the whip volume turn it up
trayvon’s protest y’all wasn’t turning up

yea, that’s right
we ain’t using our rights
we stuck in the left
till there ain’t nothing left
still slaves in the west
it’s hard to digest
pour up another cup
how i cope with the stress

death and taxes in life is guaranteed
and the same thought process
watch me p-ss it to my seed
blame it on society
guess that’s how it’s meant to be
obama said he’d give me change
but i need dollars
cop an impala
gimme them jays
why i wanna be a scholar
swing from fem to fem
like your friendly web crawler
lipstick on my collar
white collar criminal
steal billions time do minimal
while brothers doing 25
for cream just to stay alive
we worth less the subliminal

it seem so hopeless
that’s why i smoke this

lemme hear swag
not that consciousness bull
rocking fine linens made in istanbul
5 course is the meals so my stomach stay full
the wool on your eyes all to do is to pull down
yakity yack talking smack n-gga step back
i’m a mac got the mac in my back pack
don’t you like that?
yea, i know you like that
so just

[hook: gizmo, chop]

pour another cup
roll another blunt
where the b-tches at
come on my n-gga don’t front (x2)

where the b-tches at (x8)

[verse 2: chop]
yo where the b-tches at? not gon’ lie
that’s exactly the point i’m at, at sometimes…
young male trapped, fighting with both sides
made that pact, i’m keepin my soul mine
named after malcolm x, it’s meant for me
but even malcolm x’s was wylin in twenties
so i might f-ck up, tell lies to get money
just another black guy disguised as silly puddy
mold myself to fit society standards
maybe one day i’ll die for my canvas
paint my life with a tantrum
tryna rise but the fight’s like cancer..
when i’m the right road, there’s a plight that jams it…
makes me wanna get a nine and blam it, sell pies and vanish
cause this 9 to 5 job ain’t designed to manage
i’m supposed to just survive? and panic
cause, if they downsize, i’ll be famished..
so i go with rap-sh-t, but i lost most my p-ssion
do i rap bout the gats that i’m packin, how fast i get a pack-in
or maybe, how i’m grabbin a back-end
already gave my soul, and that there went cold
if i turn up there they go, i can hear they tone
and its sorta like… here we go
i was chop’s biggest fan when he started..
then he sold out, tryna be a better artist
why he tryna make dough, ain’t that sh-t garbage
i mean he gotta pay bills, but d-mn he ain’t starvin
got his old sh-t, but i ain’t bought it
he supposed to cater to me, cause i play all it
i don’t care about that nonsense, there’s sh-t i must accomplish
and it’s all about me to be honest, and i might…

[hook]

[bridge: gizmo]

get b-tches get b-tches get tonight (x3)

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