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letra de stomp em out - kappalot

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chuck, man, you brokeer than a b-tch—man, go get some racks
like it’s mortal kombat, punch you up just like that n-gga jax
like my last fight, combat—might just stomp you out just like i’m deck
n-ggas dissing on the net, them n-ggas ass, some n-ggas whack

catch that n-gga out up in the street, i put him in a pack
wesley is a b-tch, that n-gga ugly, and that n-gga fat
3% in english—how the f-ck this n-gga even passed?
n-ggas say he a “crash,” everybody in the room just laughs

n-gga dumber than a b-tch ’cause this n-gga skipping class
this n-gga can’t rap—this n-gga sh-tty, and his n-gga ass
b-tch, i’m swerving left and right, i think i’m ’bout to f-cking crash
pop a perk up on the beat, i think i’m ’bout to do it fast

shot that n-gga in the head, we left him leaking on the dash
all these n-ggas, i’m gon’ dunk up on them n-ggas like i’m nash
i can’t f-ck that lil’ ho no more ’cause that b-tch don’t bring me cash
my b-tch got no tittiеs, but she thick as f-ck—a h-ll of ass

got her b-tch all up in my phonе, she talk about smash or pass
i might f-ck yo’ b-tch like once or twice, and then i do the dash
bet the five i put your ass in a full chain
b-tch keep calling my phone, she saying mitch jackson gone through her brain

n-gga broke as f-ck, these n-ggas asking for some change
n-ggas spin some hoes, you know these n-ggas stay the same
dissing sfg, i’m never switching on the gang
catch that n-gga lacking, i’m gon’ shoot him in his brain
p-ssy n-gga try to test me—n-gga, don’t address me
p-ssy n-gga name is wesley—n-gga, come correctly
gucci shoes on my feet, now a n-gga watch his step-y
yeah, i’m screaming, “f-ck 12,” them b-tch-ass n-ggas wanna arrest me

pop a perk and now i’m in that mode, won’t let no b-tches stress me
got two b-tches on my phone, they talk about they wanna bless me
go and stomp him up, punch him in his mouth
n-gga dissing on the net, we took his life for chasing clout

me and my n-gga, nasty-doddy, run up on him, chase him down
can’t wait till these n-ggas die so i can see their mama frown
da-do-da-d-da-d-d-d, n-gga know you is a b-tch
so why the f-ck you get a gun?

n-ggas always talking sh-t, them n-ggas b-tches run
keep a smith like i’m f-cking jaden. fat blunt, i’mma blaze it
got my jimmy out, she tryna taste it. told that b-tch to save it
bad b-tch said i’m all up in her playlist—knew i’d make it

shot him twice, he got the harlem shaking
draco get to baking, fire inside come like it’s f-cking bacon
young og in the making. she the dada, oh, that b-tch jamaican

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