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letra de birds - justen

[intro]
runaway, are you so fragile?
fix the things you always break
can you be on your own?
i let you be alone
stay inside this mess you made
runaway

[verse 1]
me and her locked in
like some dreads on a rasta (yea, yea)
double in my hand
full of red, like some pasta (yea, yea)
mixed race, pretty face
i add her to my roster (yea, yea)
pockets full of green
know i’m balling out in boston
i got shooters with me
if i pull up then i’m scoring (yea, yea)
oh, it’s like that
i swear i pull up with that horford (oh my god)
like my sp-cе ship
my new b-tch, yea she forеign (oh my god)
i’m so high
i can’t find where the floor is (oh my god)
sipping on all of the juice (yea, yea)
baby you got me confused (yea, yea)
you got me hit with the deuce (yea, yea)
i’m only focused on you (yea, yea)
tell me what it means
when you say that you’re free (oh my)
but then you want to leave me
[chorus]
whole lot of
whole lot of rats
whole lot of
whole lot of birds (brrr)
whole lot of
whole lot of racks
whole lot of
whole lot of bags (ouh-ouh-ouh)
keep f-cking my lungs up with all this herb (ouh-ouh)
got to keep my love tucked cause i know it hurt (ouh-ouh-ouh)
whole lot of
whole lot of rats
whole lot of
whole lot of birds (yea, yea)
whole lot of
whole lot of racks
whole lot of
whole lot of bags (yea, yea)
keep f-cking my lungs up with all this herb (ouh-ouh)
got to keep my love tucked cause i know it hurt

[verse 2]
we like ice cream
at mcdonald’s
no it never work
i got two pills
blue pills
no it never hurt
i got twin glocks
yea they brothers
it came with a rolex
n-ggas talking sh-t
on my d-ck
they don’t even know me (buh, buh)
spinning on your block
we destroy it (skrrr)
we’re going to leave him lonely
i be moving silent
n-ggas fake
they be in bologna
i got squares in my circle
you get shot
with that sony
rich n-gga sh-t (duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh)
with my iron
like my name was tony
balling like i’m james (uh)
my shooters got aim (uh)
you’re the one to blame (uh)
you keep playing games (uh)
all of these n-ggas lame (uh)
can’t wait till i get my fame (till i get my)
one day i’ll rule the game (till i get my)
everyone one’s going to know my name
[chorus]
whole lot of
whole lot of rats
whole lot of
whole lot of birds (yea, yea)
whole lot of
whole lot of racks
whole lot of
whole lot of bags (yea, yea)
keep f-cking my lungs up with all this herb (ouh-ouh)
got to keep my love tucked cause i know it hurt (ouh-ouh)

- justen

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