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letra de blatt*! - lacę, joaqhart, lusyd, mał, burnø

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[intro: lacę]
blatt-! blatt-! blatt-! (bl!cky)
pullin’ her hair from the back (ugh!)
pullin’ her hair from the back (bah!)
pullin’ her hair from the back (back!)
pullin’ her hair from the back (blatt, blatt, blatt)
i got the gat in my backpack
loosen it, this when the strap back
pull on her head, pull the them tracks back
he talking that sh-t, talk that fat cap (brrah)
[verse 1: lacę]
he ask me what i’m feeling, man
i’m getting that promethazine, fifty milligrams
i feel like da vinci ’cause i speak in cryptograms
ammunition, getting ready for war
hop out, bullets gonna knock on your door (ugh)
burn out scat, push a pedal to the floor
race in the demons, b-tch i’m on the road
scuffing
he running his feet and it sound like percussion
tuh, blatt-! (what?)
n-gga wan’ talk, get to bluffing (huh?)
hit em with a right, finna stun him (yeah)
off a ‘erc, know i’m boutta buzz in
finna pull up right on a function
and all thesе b-tches gon’ know how we coming with whitney
lit up two boofs, b-tch my room likе a chimney (fah!)
copped a new piece and now b-tches start feeling me
sip too much lean, finna f-ck up my kidneys
i’m mixing concoctions like i am in chemistry
my ar-15 beam be right on the enemy (grrrah)
they know my trigger finger got some tendencies (bah, bah, bah, bah)
and i got the accuracy, she ’bout the stats (grrrah)
they know that it’s facts
tell ’em to hold up and roll up
all the blunts with the gas
pull up if you carry that pack
i’m out this b-tch, blatt-!
[verse 2: joaqhart]
757, we gonna k!ll you
757, we’re gonna drill you
ftyb, my n-ggas gon’ k!ll you
i f-ck on yo’ b-tch, she sweet as vanilla
wait
i beat in her p-ssy, i beat it like tekken
i f-ck your b-tch and i’m blowing her back in
f-cking up money in different direction
wait
my money flip, my money do tricks
i f-ck on yo’ b-tch, i empty the clip
wait, red beam came with the dip
wait, i’m making yo’ b-tch she gon dip
wait, she sucking my nuts i’m making her spin

[verse 3: lusyd]
ayyy!
i’m on some rage sh-t, stay your lane, b-tch
let me hear you talking sh-t and i’ma have you tied in my bas-m-nt
my rinnegan bring the pain in
don’t make me angry or mistake me for a saint
i’m hanging up heads, renovation
you n-ggas lame and always say the same sh-t
none of it makes sense
i stick you up for your stick, you don’t know how to aim it
go to war and i’m staying unscathed
got a plate full of brains, it was made by your bae
got a price on my head and i’m doing my thing
you either with or against me or you in the way
better move before i fade away in your face
’cause the sh-t on my waist got unlimited range
[verse 4: mał + lacę]
i keep a gun, i keep a stick
hundreds on me, i’m feeling like sh-t
perc’ in my stomach, i think i’ma trip
bad b-tch wanna f-ck, told her just l!ck
feeling like thanos, i’m holding my tech
lean got me lazy, perc’ got me hazy
i’m off the molly, i’m feeling so crazy
she sucking my d-ck, she thought it was gravy
calling me hov, they thinking i’m jay-z
look at yo’ drip, i think it’s fugazi
i got a stick, i think it’s a bl!ck
rocking the raf, this is not rick
your girl be a fan, give her the tip
lean in my cup, i took a sip
yes, i love sl-ts. i’m thinking i’m sl!ck
came from the mud, now i put it in my cup
what’s on my neck cost ’bout a dub
take off yo’ shoes, don’t step on my rug
used to be good, now i’m off of these drugs
she saying i’m mean, i give her a shrug
her best friend behind, she her giving me hugs
serving her white, she calling me plug
feeling like uzi, you know that it’s “up”
looking at me, i can tell she wan’ f-ck

[verse 5: burnø]
looking at me
yea that b-tch cannot stop looking at me
text game be strong, but that s-x game be weak
to keep it a buck, i been jammin’ on freaks
she be elite
sticking that v on the back and the front
b-tch, i’m leaving that vlone
i feel thugger when i’m in my heat zone
i’m hot
my brudda just passed me the rock
i might as well catch me a body
i’m dunking on all of my opps
now you looking stupid, no props
i call up lacę, gon’ resume with the mop
i say, my brodie knuckles, got loose with the locs
then we got kham out of broad line
and he gon’ come through with a chop’
turn your reality to a fatality
then we get lusyd around with the rock
off of the mic, double the beam
i do not write, b-tch i style it for free
that mean i’m off of the dome
straight to the heart like i came with the chrome

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