letra de stfu!! - jedisdead
[intro: jedisdead]
yuh, yuh, yuh
uh, yuh, yuh
[chorus: jedisdead]
shut the f-ck up, shut up
i do not care
i don’t give a f-ck
you b-tches be lame
you b-tches suck
we not the same
you down and i’m up
i’m in the air
b-tch, i’m out my body
b-tch, gimme dome
i ain’t f-ckin’ a thotty
cuban hoe, she callin’ me papi
you cannot do what i do
you is not me
talking my sh-t and i’m tryna get rich off of it
you ain’t on sh-t, we know you a b-tch
your music a joke, we laughin’ at it
come get your hoe, she all on my d-ck
chiropractor how i’m breaking her back
if i do like her, you won’t get her back
he think he better, he must be on crack
come get yo mans, that boy boutta lack
[verse 1: jedisdead]
yuh, yuh
l on his head, call him luigi
this sh-t get wicked
this sh-t too easy
i got that new swag
they tryna be me
i want a tesla, don’t wanna drive it
i need a freak b-tch, gimme your mind
i won’t talk to these b-tches
‘cuz b-tch, i am shy
i just wanted to say that
i’m in my bag, i’m in my birkin
know they be hatin’
know they be lurkin’
f-ck out my face
take you off the earth
we whippin’ a wraith
he whippin’ a he-rs-
put him in a grave
put him in the dirt
mafia sh-t, no blood on my shirt
that boy a lame, that boy a twerp
that boy a lame, he boutta get merked
[verse 2: rosey and jedisdead]
bad bad b-tch, yeah she on me
she got swag, but she not cheap
goin’ on dates like am i too deep
that boy ain’t sh-t compared to me
uhh
get the f-ck out of my way
jacket it cost me a k
choppa on me let it spray
bullets gon’ f-ck on your face
[verse 3: jedisdead]
think you the sh-t
b-tch, you are not
keep all that bullsh-t
where i am not
money and hoes
i want a lot
when i do a show
i’m f-ckin’ it up
pull up on me
you know i got backup
you getting shot, you not getting back up
shut the f-ck up
you better back up
we boutta turn your whole squad to a pack, yuh
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
[chorus: jedisdead]
shut the f-ck up, shut up
i do not care
i don’t give a f-ck
you b-tches be lame
you b-tches suck
we not the same
you down and i’m up
i’m in the air
b-tch, i’m out my body
b-tch, gimme dome
i ain’t f-ckin’ a thotty
cuban hoe, she callin’ me papi
you cannot do what i do
you is not me
talking my sh-t and i’m tryna get rich off of it
you ain’t on sh-t, we know you a b-tch
your music a joke, we laughin’ at it
come get your hoe, she all on my d-ck
chiropractor how i’m breaking her back
if i do like her, you won’t get her back
he think he better, he must be on crack
come get yo mans, that boy boutta lack
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
yeah, f-ck, yeah
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