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letra de judo - guapo

[intro]
(ellis)

[chorus: guapo]
yeah, lil’ guap be kickin’ sh-t like judo
all my b-tches fly as f-ck, i put poochie on my poodles
they can’t make no more excuses
yeah, know my range goin’ up, [?], hoes is pluto

[verse 1: guapo]
uh, hood n-gga, [?] block, he cook some noodles
n-ggas, they be rats, they the type to point at doodles
b-tch, i’m gettin’ them racks, you can look me up on google
uh, [?] lost his top, trust me, promise he gon’ shoot you
uh, my old b-tch say she hate me, i hope she know feeling’s mutual
spanish b-tch drop the top, and she throw that ass ’bout anything
i’m on that [?] texas, [?]
yeah, got some mexicans trappin’ [?], i’ll keep them boys on payroll
yеah, bands’ll make her dance, and racks makе her do what i say do
b-tch claim to cut me off, i’m tryna figure out, when did i date you?
uh, b-tch got on my nerves, i can’t even lie now, b-tch, i hate you
that simp sh-t for the birds, [?]
a broke b-tch, that sh-t right there [?] make me [?]
me and six was pullin’ scams, we had ran it up off regions
‘fore i pour up out the pint, always say my pledge of allegiance
to the united states of drank sippers all across the region
i got better hair than some of my b-tches, ’cause my daddy, he belizean
don’t go tit-for-tat with no ho, but if she f-ck, then i’m gettin’ even
all i know is chase that pape’, don’t chase no ho, ’til i’m not breathin’
yeah, n-ggas pillow talk, to these hoes, that be the reason
n-gga’ll get knocked off and have his whole family grievin’
all the same n-ggas pourin’ drank and [?] sippin’
me and [?] fifty [?] i had even heard of quagen
trickin’ off on these hoes, don’t even know ’cause i had ’em naked
[pre-chorus: guapo]
yeah, ain’t doin’ no pump fakin’
yeah, n-ggas ain’t on lil guap’, but i ball out like cancer patients

[verse 2: skrilla]
i might pull up, skirt up, high beams on the highway, [?] ninety-five
tesla model x, electric side, i took it for a glide
ricky drip the best, balenciaga for the lemon slides
f-ck a rolex iced out diamond watch, i percocet my time
duffel bag boy like i’m weezy, gucci man, ice freezy, brrr
f-ckin’ with that, hah, coke boy, feelin’ like i’m jeezy
super trim, i’m super him, i pull up supercharged
v8 cadillac engine a tank, arps in the car
louis v, lo-louis v, i feel just like bernard arnault
cut the tracker off the whip, the owner can’t even get the lo’
carbon fiber on the whip, i’m tryna see how fast it go
shooter ridin’ wit’ a tank, look like a f-ckin’ g.i. joe
got batanga on, i sell my [?] on the low
you need a stick of dog, i got a brick of dog, i’ll make it snow
j-panese fabrics, rockin’ south2 west in hollywood
mia wit’ arp and dolo, i know that i’m good
(yeah, it’s me)
[pre-chorus: guapo]
yeah, ain’t doin’ no pump fakin’
yeah, n-ggas ain’t on lil guap’, but i ball out like cancer patients

- guapo

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