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letra de phone charged - ishaan the rit god

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[verse]

blowing kush blunts on my bad b-tch patio
s-xy b-tch, she be getting freaky just like jackie o
you gossip like a b-tch n-gga, you a big hater
they got they arms folded, like a angry 5th grader
free my cousin danny, he was known for crack chopping
thought he was dancing, cuz he almost made a milli rock
bad b-tch competition, who the top wh0re
i got the b-tches tongue kissing on the top floor
same n-gga jugged a burger out his flooded chain
picked up a pocket full of numbers when the numbers came
back then i ain’t have it and she let me hit
now that b-tch lips tatted on a n-gga d-ck
i got my hustle and i got my daughter mouth to feed
march madness, n-ggas tryna make it to the league
the kitchen hotter than a m-th-ph-kkin slave ship
let that gauge rip, pulling paper til the page rip
i just saw my brother in a old school drop
he was posted with the slabs, soul food spot

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