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 i’m ‘bout to break my monitor, i swear - kritikl

(intro)
h-llo, my friend
say “i’m about to break my monitor, i swear”
what you say, woman?
say “i’m about to break my monitor, i swear”
i’m about to break my monitor, i swear
ha-ha-ha
man, i swear to god, i will break my monitor if i don’t make it as a rapper in the rap game
listen

(pre-chorus)
i’m gonna go move my family out the hood
get some money, move my grandma, and family out the freaking hood
look, i’m gonna go out the hood, get my freaking money up
look, yuh, we gettin’ all this-

(chorus: g-p)
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread
(verse #1)
and, i’m gettin’ all the bread from the freaking hood
i’ma move all my family out the freaking hood
and, you know i’m gettin’ the bread, cause i’m ’boutta go
i’mma ride my horsey down the country-side, spend all my freakin’ money on a new watch
roll that sh-t around my wrist, like an ankle bracelet
but, they know what i’m doing here, you know what i do
eatin’ bread, on a daily
on the weekends, for my kids
and, my wife, she got the fatty, i wanna slap it
slap it, slap it, gettin’-

(chorus: g-p)
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread

(money may: verse #2)
i’m gonna split his head like an oreo
i’ma f-ckin’ move my homie out the hood, too
and, i got my f-ckin’ gun on me right now
yeah, i’m in the studio, rappin’
momma proud of me, she said i’m gonna go up
i’m with, kritikl, and we goin’ up, we finna f-ckin’ blow up in the country
yeah, they know what we do, cookin’ up in the stu’
i’m a rapper, not a movie actor, i’m finna trap on the block, i’m a gangsta’ trapper
they know, what we finna f-ckin’ do, ridin’ all around the block
yeah, they know all my-, uh
they know all my crewmates with me every time, no among us
there’s an impostor among us, but this ain’t no game, you know we ain’t playin’
we ’bout to go and up, i got the gun, and i’m sprayin’
don’t run, don’t trip, i don’t care about them n-ggas
p-a-t-e-k, no sha, b-tch
(verse #3)
all my homies gotta stay, cause we goin’ out to play
bring your friend, bring your bae
cause, i got the gun, and i’m ’bout to f-ckin’ spray
you know that i do this sh-t, i’m gonna go up to the cl!ck
n-ggas just jump on the beat, still long-gone
i’m thinking a bit, and a bit
n-gga just do what i did so bad, give him a break, and i break that lag
break your book, my bad
put a real f-ck, and a d-ck, and i’m making that bag
i’mma keep these days sane, i’ll keep a memo’ vain
i’m walkin’ in the rain, bumpin’ kendrick lamar
m.a.a.d city, pain
bullet-holes in his head, get his f-ckin’ brain, we ’bout to f-ckin’ mash the brains up
we ’bout to spin the freakin’-, uh
don’t even try to keep trippin’, losing the form of lipton
i stick to cook, he dead
saving up for designer on linkedin
don’t wanna bring the day they-, like what?
mm, come up in the deep, come up in the booster beat
that beat, that booster, send them one more beat
they got a rubber, a booster beat
witch a b-tch, troll beast
[?] the block, all week
some more up outta’ the piece, b-tter up in the second dough piece
(chorus: g-p)
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread, bread, bread
bread, bread
bread

- kritikl

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS