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letra de ignorant shit - lil blood

[intro: lil blood & peezy]
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old drunk-ass b-tch
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ayy, blood, you already know what’s goin’ on, n-gga, ghetto boy, 3rd world sh-t, n-gga
uh, uh
this sh-t—
this sh-t real different, know what i’m talkin’ ’bout?
like, super astronomical, some sh-t like that
very ignorant
you dig?
phew, phew, phew
[verse 1: lil blood]
told the lil’ b-tch i’m a boss with workers
and every b-tch i f-ck with gotta serve her purpose
i ain’t f-ckin’ on no b-tch unless i’m checkin’ her purses
on demon time and i’ma wrap a n-gga head like a turban
searchin’ for every dollar when i break on a b-tch
if she ain’t trickin’ talkin’, blood gon’ have to shake on a b-tch
see, i have little patience, blood ain’t ’bout to wait on a b-tch
hibachi dinner date and i’ma make her pay for the sh-t
i gave amy a couple solids, walked away with a ‘script
hit for a brick, sold an eight, the other eight, i’ma sip
told shapey to grab a fanta, backwood, and some chips
phone ringin’, that’s my baby mama trippin’ and sh-t
ayy, we be reckless with that fully, on some ignorant sh-t
he on some ignorant sh-t
stay with a b-tch for six months without givin’ her rent
when you get drunk, b-tch, you get sloppy and belligerent, b-tch

[chorus: 3rd world momo]
yeah, i stepped in the party on my ignorant sh-t (i’m on some ignorant sh-t)
if she ain’t got no chicken for me, i get rid of that b-tch (then i get rid of that b-tch)
i got in with my forty with a stick in that b-tch (i got a stick in that b-tch)
if she don’t put it in my hand, then i ain’t d-ckin’ that b-tch (no, i ain’t d-ckin’ that b-tch)
caught her comin’ drunk on that belligerent sh-t (on that belligerent sh-t)
twelve hundred on my shoes, couple bands on my fit (couple racks on the fit, b-tch)
no, i ain’t f-ckin’ with no semis, got a glock with a switch (got a glock with a switch, b-tch)
i’m tryna beat the block up, no time to box with a b-tch (time to box with no b-tch)
[verse 2: peezy]
pick the top up, no, you can’t box with a clip
had to pull the top up, it done got hot in this b-tch
i cut the ac on, ridin’, bangin’ pac in this b-tch
and ain’t no life after death you plan on stoppin’ this sh-t
i ride ghosts ’cause i’m a ghost rider
i’m so f-ckin’ fly, i need a copilot
thick b-tch bouncin’ up and down like she a lowrider
wrist froze, but a n-gga lit, i don’t need no lighting
i just might retire, sh-t, i’m on fire
she just wanna f-ck me and i won’t fight her
run up on the gang, leave you with a sh-t bag, here go your diaper
38 amiris, pockets stuffed, can’t get no tighter
expensive-ass, ugly-ass shoes, i really don’t like ’em
ghetto boy, 3rd world sh-t, don’t ever test it
i got lawyers on retainer case i ever get arrested
got my b-tches on retainer, she gon’ run soon as i text her
rockin’ three different presis like i keep gettin’ elected

- lil blood

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