letra de x-mas list - juice wrld
[intro: juice wrld & future]
dy krazy
all i want from christmas is some all-gold t–th
cowboy chief, hat on my head, rifle on the scene
[chorus]
gucci sweater on me like a christmas list (yee-haw)
ak-47 on my christmas list (yee-haw)
son of a b-tch tried to rob me, had to dump my clip (yee-haw)
that’s a purdy-ass p-ssy (ah), let me swim in it (yee-haw)
yeah, we the roughest, toughest n-ggas ’round town (yeah, yeah)
what i’m totin’ be a mcmillan, then yo’ ho down (yeah)
if he like yo’ ho, he may just tie your ho down (uh-huh)
i heard her name mary, hit, then bailey made her go ’round (yee-haw)
[verse 1]
uh, round ’em up, just another day on the ranch
brand new band in the gucci pants, codeinе cowboy, i’m a champ
big-ass gucci belt buckle, with a revolvеr in my pants
i bet you never went bull ridin’ off a couple xans (yee-haw)
i keep a lil’ somethin’ in my holster, ’cause if it go up, then it’s over
i keep a lil’ somethin’ in my cup, codeine pourin’, runneth over (ah)
put a lil’ somethin’ in her gut
she comin’, she keep comin’ over and over
we gettin’ close, she my cowgirl, i feel her holster (yee-haw)
beverly hillbillies, countin’ them real billi’s
dirtbikes poppin’ them real wheelies (yee-haw)
beverly hillbillies, pass me a pill
i can’t deal with it, deal with it all
[chorus]
gucci sweater on me like a christmas list (yee-haw)
ak-47 on my christmas list (yee-haw)
son of a b-tch tried to rob me, had to dump my clip (yee-haw)
that’s a purdy-ass p-ssy (ah), let me swim in it (yee-haw)
yeah, we the roughest, toughest n-ggas ’round town (yeah, yeah)
what i’m totin’ be a mcmillan, then yo’ ho down (yeah)
if he like yo’ ho, he may just tie your ho down (uh-huh)
i heard her name mary, hit, then bailey made her go ’round (yee-haw)
[verse 2]
say he wanna have a shootout, n-gga, where you at? (uh)
i’m at the saloon gettin’ slumped off the jack (uh)
got a revolver on me, i’m gon’ meet you in the back (uh)
shoot you in the face after we take these five steps (uh)
smith & wesson five hundred in my grip
my new watch gon’ cost five hundred, don’t trip
i ain’t talkin’ ’bout whiskey when i say i got the drip
gucci boots with the spurs so the haters gon’ trip, yeah
haters gon’ trip, yeah
i’m robbin’ them for their loot, they ain’t gon’ do sh-t
old broke-ass son of b-tch
[chorus]
gucci sweater on me like a christmas list (yee-haw)
ak-47 on my christmas list (yee-haw)
son of a b-tch tried to rob me, had to dump my clip (yee-haw)
that’s a purdy-ass p-ssy (ah), let me swim in it (yee-haw)
yeah, we the roughest, toughest n-ggas ’round town (yeah, yeah)
what i’m totin’ be a mcmillan, then yo’ ho down (yeah)
if he like yo’ ho, he may just tie your ho down (uh-huh)
i heard her name mary, hit, then bailey made her go ’round (yee-haw)
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