letra de flu game - jaziah!
it’s 9am right now, i’m sick as h-ll
i don’t got my voice, but i’m still snapping
i’m really him, i’m really him
skinny n-gga, but in that paint man i go bully, i go pitt
throwing bullets all on that play, k!ll seven man i feel like vick
diamonds on me and they keep dancing, wrist flooding man i swear i’m sick
pretty b-tch and she all on me, get up in her and i beat her cl-t
pretty n-gga, all these n-ggas want a copy, all that swag n-gga
leaching n-gga, get off your ass and get a motherf-cking bag n-gga
rap n-gga, he think it’s sweet, we get up right up on his ass n-gga
i’m f-cking snapping, a lot of hoes, a lot of action
i love f-cking bad b-tches, a lot of clothes, a lot of fashion
i like driving fast cars, a lot of tracks, a lot of traction
i love smoking good gas, a lot of blunts, a lot of passing
i like shooting big guns, a lot of screams, a lot of clapping
f-ck her with my grillz in, with my f-cking chain on
rugrat music still playing, she can’t pick a fav song
i always win or no guidance, b-tch i put the gang on
h-lla bankrolls be the tape, then i beat her trey songz
atlanta n-gga, look me in my eye, why your pants so tight
slim n-gga, 28’s, and i’m still her f-cking type
my shooter, keep straps, like a motherf-cking dyk-
i’m him, 4l, jaz you motherf-cking right
and i keep shooting with my left, but i’m driving with my right
i’m in her head so f-cking bad, middle name just might be lice
bad lil b-tch, she from the bay, i think her dad was jerry rice
march up in his f-cking trap, they illegal b-tch we ice
call up des to whoop her ass, slide the block and go get kyce
i don’t need no f-cking god, shut up b-tch, i’m jesus christ
f-ck the wok, man i want tris, sipping purple, f-ck a white
my b-tch love me so d-mn bad, wipe me down like baby wipe
and i’m a real life blood, and my blood get h-lla slimy
n-gga think he dej loaf, now he dead man, why he try me
and i hang with real steppers, shoot him up and chance behind me
momma stressing swear we good, all these labels wanna sign me
b-tch i swear that’s not my baby, we ain’t f-ck, that b-tch ain’t by me
fortify the f-cking trap, b-tch i feel like murakami
i was broke as h-ll in school, now them hunnids right beside me
i’m the biggest in the game, throw the knife like i’m a azami
i’m really him, stop f-cking playing with me
i’m your favorite rapper, favorite rapper, this sh-t too easy for me
i ain’t no mumble rapper, no whisper rapper, i’m a real f-cking stepper
and i’m sick b-tch
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- letra de lindsay - nosaint (arg)
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- letra de mutantes - la vela puerca
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