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 who at the door - krispylife kidd

[intro: krispylife kidd & ysr gramz]
yeah, n-gga
we on that one tip, b-tch
krispylife, ysr sh-t, dumbass n-gga (yung sak runner)
look
ysr sh-t

[verse 1: krispylife kidd]
just came back from bally with like nine of ’em
drove them b-tches all the way, we ain’t fly nothin’
like your shoes got all the grip, you ain’t slide nothin’
i’m really doin’ the sh-t you rappin’, i ain’t tryin’ nothin’
make a b-tch get nasty, shake that ass on a handstand
i don’t sweat until [?] or i see a raid van
run down on a blood, you must be a brave man
if it’s just me, i got my glock and this b-tch’ll shave ten

[verse 2: ysr gramz]
i be packin’, vacuum-sealin’ ‘bows at the days inn
i ain’t doin’ shows at your club unless the k’s in
you ain’t did sh-t for your dog, but you call him twin
i paid twelve hundred for this bl!ck, this an f&n
my young n-gga’ll walk down on you like he ybn
a hundred-fifty bands in this car, it’s me and yn
my oldhead showed me a brick looked like a white benz
i swear to god, i made a lot of money with my white friends
[verse 3: krispylife kidd]
high as f-ck in the club, the ps got me flippin’ out
a random n-gga dropped a five, i punched him in his f-ckin’ mouth
lil’ bro campin’ the car, so we hittin’ it when they runnin’ out
like they tryna hug the earth, i made ’em hug the motherf-ckin’ ground
drrt, drrt, i put that switchy on him
i made him p-ss hisself like he had a weak-ass kidney on him
like i got a n-gga daddy with me, i got a f-ckin’ fifty on me
leave this b-tch smokin’ like i got a f-ckin’ chimney on me

[verse 4: ysr gramz]
you better duck your taco, i’ll put some loaf on it
all my friends is rich, all you hangin’ ’round is broke homies
what’s-his-name pack hittin’ hard, we put dope on it
dog tried to drop his first chain and went broke on it
real beecher n-gga, i’ll throw fives in your f-ckin’ face
like i’m signed to sada baby, i’m a f-ckin’ ape
we just dropped a six in the pop, i ain’t f-ckin’ ate
bro f-cked your b-tch before you, you so f-ckin’ late

[chorus: krispylife kidd & ysr gramz]
these n-ggas p-ssy, they do not be on anything
(don’t be on sh-t, they don’t be on nothin’)
hit him with that whoop-whoop, left his ass sh-t stained
hit him with that brrt-brrt, left his ass sh-t stained
hit him with that brrt-brrt, left his ass sh-t stained
who want smoke? shoot your thing
[verse 5: ysr gramz]
my n-ggas puttin’ belt to ass like they pootie tang
i know n-ggas sellin’ white bricks like they gucci mane
how the f-ck you drop a diss song and ain’t did a thing?
you ain’t never had fifty bands, you so f-ckin’ lame
put an army on your ass like i’m major payne
n-ggas wearin’ fake cartiers, their sh-t ain’t the same
i told bro don’t walk down on dog, ’cause he’s a no-name
my project n-ggas throwin’ fours like they rocaine

[verse 6: krispylife kidd]
i’m wearin’ all black in the club, where you find me at?
i done snuck a mac in the club way in pontiac
make sure that b-tch get broke, where brazy johnny at?
i’m droppin’ change, dumpin’ this hundred like it’s a laundromat
is it beef, or do you want a rap competition?
i’m russell westbrook for the thunder, boy, don’t ask how i’m livin’
i’m on the road with switchy, they done caught me down and i was trippin’
i don’t kiss or tell or talk to n-ggas, i don’t know no b-tches

- krispylife kidd

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS