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letra de narco trafficante - kevin gates

[intro]
yo me llamo luca brasi
ughh
yo mato por nada
yo tengo muchas pistolas, cabron
yo tengo cocaina, marijuana, y lo que tu necessita
numeros bueno
if you having trouble translating what the f-ck i just said, go get rosetta stone
puta, pendejo

[verse 1]
p-ssionate about crack sales, people wonder if i have a cracked head
see og and freelow, don’t ever call em no crack head
brap brap, cracked legs, broke ribs, cracked head
meat cleaver to the white meat, cracked eggs
pots, pans, still objects, non-stick, district court
nonsense child support, tryna settle things outta court
luca brasi a mobster, choke your throat in your collarbone
broken nose and a collarbone, neck look like a xylophone
sick of being bothered, p-ssy artist you can’t buy a sound
when i was broke i was a joke, i couldn’t buy a phone
wrong number, call a b-tch, i get the dial tone
now my d-ck been gaining weight from getting smiled on
cheeks, cheeks, or should i say no t–th?
been off the streets for 14 months and i ain’t miss a beat
white girl wasted, a couple want me to cuddle
need them bills to pay her bill, she love my lil’ brother chuckie
booty club transaction in traffic saying they love it
og car moving blocks boxing impuddle
down set hut, out the huddle i suffer concussions
wide receiver, p-ss protection, no fumble, touchdown, or nothing, go

[chorus]
b-tch i run the streets, don’t talk to police
say what’s my name? perdoname, no habla ingles
b-tch i run the streets, me no talk to police
say what’s my name? perdoname, no habla ingles
narco trafficante, narco trafficante
ti quiero cocaina mi familia es mi hombre
narco trafficante, narco trafficante
ti quiero cocaina mi familia es mi nombre

[verse 2: percy keith]
i know i’m the sh-t like my sh-t don’t have a stench
and all my hoes are ratchet like i don’t have a wrench
and all my hoes are in the game like i don’t have a bench
and they gimme so much brain, them hoes don’t make no sense
and my white girl in the kitchen work her wrist like rachel ray
i don’t see no black and white, i see 50 shades of grey, yeah
cocaine and jail, bars story of my life
i got 11 in the car, i hope amigo wrapped ’em right
i don’t want these n-gga’s b-tches so i’mma give ’em back to ’em
but they mouth game exclusive, i’m startin’ to get attatched to ’em
b-tches on my d-ck, i got to ask ’em where my d-ck is
shout out to my girlfriend too, sup girl? i’m good, don’t worry
benz truck, i’m loving it, i love it so much i f-ck in it
am i tripping or is her p-ssy talkin’, i swear it just told me to nut in it
her p-ssy so tight i’m stuck in it, feel like she still sucking it
i beat it until it young bleed like her, n-gga what in it

[verse 3]
b-tch i’m fresh up off my grind like a skateboard in this prime
don’t skateboard why lie, couldn’t skateboard if i tried
i like trap houses and kitchens and love to f-ck with prescriptions
got a bad b-tch and she sickening, you’d prolly guess she a stripper
she kinda tall, got a long weave, her thighs thick and she slender
she play mean but she really sweet, got pretty t–th and she tender
my mother’s puerto rican with pistols, illegal tender
i ain’t p-ssy like the son of the one on illegal tender
gason donald b-tch you play w-lly cooley i get you injured
went to school, too busy focused on pigeons, we got suspended
boyfriend ugly, girl i’m too cute to be going duffy
keep that hifey sh-t from around me in public, could lead to scufflin’
free zoah li jamalo while in the roco republic
still i thrive in the gutter, missing lives in the jungle
pair of cleates dirty feet had to improvise when i’m probably
b00bly bumpy on a muscle, can’t go aside from the hustle, no

- kevin gates

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