letras.top
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de on it! - king combs

Loading...

[intro: king combs]
yeah
you see all this ice, n-gg-, you see how we rockin’
cyn, n-gg-

[chorus: azchike]
i bust down in these louies
i gotta chill, knockin’ down all these groupies
i’m a playboi carti, hang around with the uzi
you actin’ like she yours but she down for my movie
i be pimpin’, i ain’t worried ’bout no b-tch crushin’
if i jump, they gon’ jump, get this b-tch jumpin’
broke up with my glock, got that b-tch dumpin’
if i wear my money with my clothes, i can’t fit nothin’
bands pokin’, thirty glock got my hand smokin’
if i’m up and catch a lick, i put my mans on it
i bring the b-tches to the beach, put the sand on it
treat that -ss like a fur and put my hands on it

[verse 1: king combs]
yeah, uh, put my hands on it
if you twerkin’ for a birkin, put my bands on it
dirty money, she gon’ have to put a fan on it
shawty duckin’ from the flash, put the cam on it
yeah, i go super saiyan on it
and she’s leavin’ with me, you can plan on it
’cause the crib so big, you can land on it
and that sh-t got a beach, you can tan on it
what? what? and that’s facts
cut her off, she mad, and that’s that
four door garage, the whips black
hoes wanna menáge, they b-tch bad

[verse 2: 1takejay]
like i worked at wingstop, you see these pieces
this cuban link sittin’ up just like i got cleavage
like an old b-tch, let me put my teeth in
i can’t smile too hard ’cause my sh-t really blingin’
and if the head game right, i’m not leavin’
you bald-headed, if you can’t achieve it, b-tch, weave it
these n-gg-s want smoke but these n-gg-s still tweet
this b-tch got a n-gg- but this b-tch still beakin’
i can’t f-ck with a cl-ssy b-tch, i tried it
i need a ratchet b-tch that’s gon’ suck d-ck and ride it
girl, you want this d-ck, ain’t sh-t free, you gotta buy it
she cash app and text back, ooh, you know i like it
i’m superman ’cause these lil’ n-gg-s is my sidekick
i’m not sellin’ swag but these n-gg-s still buyin’
you not a boss, you just real good at lyin’
singin’ all my sh-t, you my fan and my hypeman

[chorus: azchike]
i bust down in these louies
i gotta chill, knockin’ down all these groupies
i’m a playboi carti, hang around with the uzi
you actin’ like she yours but she down for my movie
i be pimpin’, i ain’t worried ’bout no b-tch crushin’
if i jump, they gon’ jump, get this b-tch jumpin’
broke up with my glock, got that b-tch dumpin’
if i wear my money with my clothes, i can’t fit nothin’
bands pokin’, thirty glock got my hand smokin’
if i’m up and catch a lick, i put my mans on it
i bring the b-tches to the beach, put the sand on it
treat that -ss like a fur and put my hands on it

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS

Loading...