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letra de fuck you mean - guwop

hook:
off white, sipping dirty sprite
got a bar in it
big pipes, end that boy life
forty car flipping
on sight, no i don’t fight
shooting darts in em
everybody reckless with they life
let ar split em
recording in the stu, burn it down like an arsonist
line him up, split him right in half, no t chart and sh-t
“32” hollows in this glock, ain’t no carding it
choppers bullets pierce his head, ripping through his cartilage
(yea)
i can’t chase hoes
(yea)
brick moving karo
(yea)
wipe the opps nose, like it’s yayo
cases pending, but bro beat them b-tches in the fazos

verse:
folks he still was out, judge just let him out on bond, and
if you talking hot, we out in traffic like an on ramp
forty pull yo card, just like a las vegas con man
hollows stretch yo body out, like limos headed to the prom dance
and yo pockets hurt, moncler sweater, but you drive a ford
this imported bl!cky, the bullets came from el salvador
it hit you in yo stomach, end yo life, that’s a child abort
bullets rip through that, yo liver, pancreas, then spinal cord
and, i dont give a f-ck about a case: broken ipad
so these hollow bullets touch his ass, like we playing tag
all that fronting sh-t so dead, go and bury that
feel like i should work at kroger, way i’m filling up this bag
heard some junkies talking really reckless out they cervical
foe nem got the drop, open him like it was surgical
slide through, fn have him jumping, like a vertical
dropping off his top, (bow), mercedes convertible
put his old head on the tv, like a blue ray
how you use a whole check for vc on 2k?
pressed than a b-tch, like some newly ironed clothes
if you move, fit you in a suit, like you bruce wayne
like i needed glasses, walk down, and see what’s up with you
stomp you in a bush, like my name was george w
broken handcuffs, i ain’t got no time for cuffing boo
i’m in these trenches, like a drunk driving bmw
hook:
off white, sipping dirty sprite
got a bar in it
big pipes, end that boy life
forty car flipping
on sight, no i don’t fight
shooting darts in em
everybody reckless with they life
let ar split em
recording in the stu, burn it down like an arsonist
line him up, split him right in half, no t chart and sh-t
“32” hollows in this glock, ain’t no carding it
choppers bullets pierce his head, ripping through his cartilage
(yea)
i can’t chase hoes
(yea)
brick moving karo
(yea)
wipe the opps nose, like it’s yayo
cases pending, but bro beat them b-tches in the fazos

- guwop

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