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letra de tory lanez v2 - komato$e

[intro: lil house phone]
(who the h-ll is carlo?)
look
yo
ayy
woah
look
ayy

[verse 1: lil house phone]
n-gga, i ain’t no k!ller, but don’t push me
you got condoms in yo pocket, but you never gettin’ p-ssy
i been gettin’ on, but they tried to overlook me
n-gga, f-ck a quarantine, tell promoters come & book me
f-ck a puff bar, b-tch, i’m back up on them cigs
at your baby mama’s house, playin games with your kids
i done drunk all the juice out the fridge
if he sneak dissin me, then that boy don’t wanna live
get it how you live, i ain’t hatin on no other man
i ain’t no podcast n-gga, i’m still sellin grams
i’m a young sack runner, shout my n-gga [?]
please get yo man ‘fore we blow this n-gga like the fan
in the field, intercepting like a quarterback
we don’t wanna hear yo raps cause we know you cap
& you got a strap? n-gga, who you finna jack?
i’m finna f-ck this b-tch once & i ain’t comin back
[hook: lil house phone]
man, you only shoot b-tches, call that n-gga tory
n-gga say he gettin’ money, not a true story
i jus f-cked the b-tch once & now the b-tch adore me
& we gon leave the scene bl–dy, we gon leave it gory

[verse 2: komato$e]
aimin’ straight for her head like some sudafed
that b-tch gon call the cops, actin’ like she knew the feds
i stay 10 toes, somethin’ like what buddha said
these rappers ain’t hungry, that’s why i hit budapest
i already got doxxed, y’all want my new address?
movin’ like a couch surfer ‘cause i need a bed
girl got that skeet-5000, ultra suction, kung-fu grip coochie, & she give soothing head
i ain’t new to that
tell me where your shooters at
tell me where a witness is, we get to him, remove his head
shout out guillotine, he pullin’ up w/ 2 of them
if somebody f-ck w/ us then we neuter them
i’m prayin’ for my mama, she got somethin’ in her head
i ain’t on punk’d, i ain’t w/ the foolishness
hara-kiri, pullin’ guts out on some gruesome sh-t
when my verse came on, everybody was like “who is this?”

[verse 3: lil house phone]
yeah, i’m sittin in a coup tryin not to be cooped up
ice cream shoes, b-tches tryna get scooped up
pull up in a new truck, they like “who us?”
i ain’t runnin wit the klan, but i got blue bucks
b-tch, i’m fresh up out the water like i’m baptized
if the b-tch ugly then i’m blind, i ain’t got eyes
if you ain’t gettin money, then you gettin chastised
i’m in atlanta droppin’ pounds like a fat guy
i do a lotta sh-t i’m not jus a rap guy
you ain’t got yo strap? guaranteed i’m finna blast mine
all my n-ggas blowin up like a landmine
i’m in that b-tch dm like “you so d-mn fine”
they at my shows, they recitin every d-mn line
the b-tch said she too drunk, then do a d-mn line
i jus cleaned my gun i ain’t finna jam mine
& i got a f-ckin mask on like i’m mankind
[verse 4: komato$e]
he said “you showed up to the funeral truey’d out
respect
i know our brother up there lookin’ down”
we flex
my shooters mop the internet, they get sh-t wet
your shooters miscarried inside the womb, they born dead
rappers suspect, they hidin’ somethin’
inglorious b-st-rds, what they tryna hide from us?
5k plays, but 50 likes on it
you tellin’ me you couldn’t put 5 on it?
i’m too divine to bot my plays, on god
if you try consoling me, you get played, on god
i smoke pack from london to reno
90’s bambino still built like a pedo
i lay the smackdown
i’m gettin’ lit in midas’ honor, i put that smack down
h mobbin’ to the wawa’s jus to rob ‘em for mashed potatoes
this ain’t 2015, i don’t date hoes!

[hook: lil house phone]
n-gga only shootin’ b-tches, call that n-gga tory
n-gga say he gettin’ money, not a true story
i jus f-cked the b-tch once & now the b-tch adore me
& we gon leave the scene bl–dy, we gon leave it gory

- komatoe

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