letra de superbowl - lil bean & ebk jaaybo
[intro: lil bean]
(let the beat ride out, ju)
skrrt, skrrt, skrrt
[verse 1: lil bean]
denim tear denim, not no robin jeans
i done dropped a ten-ball on a diamond ring
i used to post up with my pops, i know a lot of fiends
i told that b-tch, “i lie to you, don’t you lie to me”
too much fake jewelry got me frustrated
i can’t listen to these n-ggas, i know they pump fakin’
i put my d-ck inside that b-tch and make her cum crazy
bro just facetimed another dub, he goin’ dumb crazy
yeah, we like to ride around in different trucks
bro sayin’, “where the drank?” he only likе the navy, seal it up
that b-tch was like an еight, but then she wanted pay for bigger b-tt
the drakey big as f-ck, i use both hands to lift it up
they ask me how i ran it up, i made some smart decisions
yeah, you can tell i went to zenith, vvss hittin’
everywhere you see two-threes like i’m scottie pippen
she told me since i got some money, i started actin’ different
[chorus: lil bean]
runnin’ to that sack, run it up
i know the streets slime, so when i turn my back, it’s covered up
i can shake back, so when i take a loss, i double up
i know real n-ggas, when they see me in traffic, throw it up
this a handgun, a switch up on the back, just gotta squeeze
new whip other day, my phone start it up, don’t need a key
can’t compete yet, i swear these lil’ boys in different leagues
this the super bowl, i’m feelin’ like mahomes, just got a ring
[verse 2: ebk jaaybo]
yeah, yeah, i’m the one that’s gon’ turn it up every time
this music cool, but i’m gon’ spin when i got murder on my mind
faceshots the only way i politic, on tina life
yeah, yeah, just bought some ah-ah-ahs to get my n-ggas right
ayy, look, i don’t want the bl!ck if it ain’t glock on glock strap
dropped a hundred on a sucker, he ain’t drop back
stop makin’ songs how you the top hat, you’re not that
you’s a b-tch, stop that
my mama tell me rap, but i’m a gravedigger
when homicides all you see, it’ll change n-ggas, yeah
i got blood in my system one time, now my taste different
so i be tweakin’ if i ain’t clip him
yeah, yeah, i gotta hit the n-gga if i dribble on him
fonk real, i take my son to the park with my pistol on me
thirty d-ck choked on me, c-ck it back and jam it, it start p-ssin’ on him
long live the 2-1s, i swear i miss my homies, g’s
[chorus: lil bean]
runnin’ to that sack, run it up
i know the streets slime, so when i turn my back, it’s covered up
i can shake back, so when i take a loss, i double up
i know real n-ggas, when they see me in traffic, throw it up
this a handgun, a switch up on the back, just gotta squeeze
new whip other day, my phone start it up, don’t need a key
can’t compete yet, i swear these lil’ boys in different leagues
this the super bowl, i’m feelin’ like mahomes, just got a ring
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