letra de osama - lifelessgarments
[chorus]
huh, huh, yeah, huh (barloss, h-ll no)
i don’t give a f-ck
i’m psyched the f-ck out, i’m the one
don’t give a f-ck ’bout the fame, my status, i get the guys touched
i know it don’t take too much
and they be like garments, yeah, you doin’ too much
they all say the swag too much, the cash too much
for most of you n-ggas, it’s such
garments the one, the goat, vampire, or leek, or whatever you call me, i’m tough
i pick out the alphabet, i shoot xd, come on, lil’ n-gga, let’s clutch
[?] bags of weed, i pick up osama bin laden and smoke out the blunt
i’m inside the black truck with them black garments on, bulletproofed up
vamp, money, and guns
i’m putting them bands on top of his head, heeyuh
i hope you religious, ’cause just like osama, we goin’ all out, islam
if i’m in the tank, yeah, just like obama, i’ma get me a b-tch to run
been through all that drama, i wanna hit the whole team up, just like [?]
[verse]
i got rich off the [?], n-ggas not smokin’ with leek
forever, it’s obsolete
bloodpact, the gang
like ye, it’s blood on the leaves
yeah, i got a slime point
dump on that b-tch [?]
i got some sh-t in my brief
i’m not colorblind, i can see the paper, okay, it’s just blue and green, yeah, ‘kay
i widen the body, i drip like dasani
the swag is sick, the swag disgusting
n-ggas not comin’ like leek, ‘kay
it’s untouchable, as you can see, ‘kay
irresponsible shooters with me, ‘kay
i got thumbable money, i been f-ckin’ up commas
i got payroll k!llers, i keep, okay (yeah)
i got stain, lil’ b-tch, i got chronic
it’s all in her stomach, i threw that lil’ b-tch a few hundred
slide down on his team and punish
that b-tch will get punted
that b-tch will get fifa’d out
that n-gga will get his ass punched
in atlanta, i don’t f-ck with [?]
i will pack that b-tch out in a blunt
you wanna crash out with vamp, you get gone
b-tch, you stupid as f-ck, are you drunk?
like an ill-strator, you get drawn down, i paint a lil’ picture or some
get money on money, i’m thumbin’ ’til sunday, i put all my opps in my lungs
i sprint out the van, dump out all the ammo, i 007 it up
[chorus]
huh, huh, yeah, huh (barloss, h-ll no)
i don’t give a f-ck
i’m psyched the f-ck out, i’m the one
don’t give a f-ck ’bout the fame, my status, i get the guys touched
i know it don’t take too much
and they be like garments, yeah, you doin’ too much
they all say the swag too much, the cash too much
for most of you n-ggas, it’s such
garments the one, the goat, vampire, or leek, or whatever you call me, i’m tough
i pick out the alphabet, i shoot xd, come on, lil’ n-gga, let’s clutch
[?] bags of weed, i pick up osama bin laden and smoke out the blunt
i’m inside the black truck with them black garments on, bulletproofed up
vamp, money, and guns
i’m putting them bands on top of his head, heeyuh
i hope you religious, ’cause just like osama, we goin’ all out, islam
if i’m in the tank, yeah, just like obama, i’ma get me a b-tch to run
been through all that drama, i wanna hit the whole team up, just like [?]
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