letra de drill youngin' - lil' polo jr
[intro]
ayy, london got the beat knockin’
how the f-ck you wanna play it?
i’m a demon in these streets, they know i’m bred for all that slayin’
masked up, black gloves, hollow tips, we leave ’em layin’
b-tch, don’t run, i get to sprayin’, ain’t no duckin’, ain’t no savin’
[chorus]
police hit the lights, b-tch, i’m swervin’, pushin’ weight
know i’m ridin’ dirty, got this fn on my waist
shawty bad as f-ck, but she won’t see me beat no case
i got bodies in my city, they still tryna find a trace (b-tch, let’s go)
uh, opps be talkin’ hot but they ain’t slide (they ain’t slide)
we gon’ catch that p-ssy, make his mama cry (make her cry)
pull up, let that 30 rip at everybody (everybody)
my youngins trigger-happy, tryna drop a body (blah, blah)
[verse]
gang sh-t, hit the cornеr, let that cutter rip
ain’t no runnin’, b-tch, we up thе score, we sendin’ hollow tips
told that b-tch don’t touch my phone if she ain’t talkin’ ’bout no l!cks
i been runnin’ through them racks, i’m stackin’ blues, i’m stackin’ bricks
still on that murder sh-t, i ain’t never change, ho
every f-ckin’ day, i’m masked up, tryna stain, ho
he was dissin’ on my name, caught him lackin’, now he stained, ho
play around with them steppers, b-tch, i promise we gon’ bang, ho
tell my youngin’ “get him,” he gon’ spray, leave brains on pavement
i been countin’ money, choppas loaded in my bas-m-nt
took a trip to houston just to cop me a new drac’
spin his block like beyblade, make that b-tch erase, ayy
i don’t do no talkin’, we just pull up, let it spark
hundred shots up out this chop, he won’t make it to the doc
got my finger on the trigger, know this b-tch won’t ever stop
once he drop, we double back, send some more to hit his top, b-tch
[chorus]
police hit the lights, b-tch, i’m swervin’, pushin’ weight
know i’m ridin’ dirty, got this fn on my waist
shawty bad as f-ck, but she won’t see me beat no case
i got bodies in my city, they still tryna find a trace (b-tch, let’s go)
uh, opps be talkin’ hot but they ain’t slide (they ain’t slide)
we gon’ catch that p-ssy, make his mama cry (make her cry)
pull up, let that 30 rip at everybody (everybody)
my youngins trigger-happy, tryna drop a body (blah, blah)
[outro]
p-ssy n-gga talkin’, but he know he duckin’ smoke
i been layin’ low, but i still keep that draco close
put his name up on a shirt, now his homies screamin’ “no”
f-ck his set, f-ck his block, tell ’em all, it’s time to go
yeah, f-ck them n-ggas, we gon’ spin ‘til we can’t spin no more
ain’t no lackin’ in my section, b-tch, we strapped up at the store
free my brothers out them cages, they still posted with them poles
this that drill youngin’ sh-t, b-tch, you know how that sh-t go, yeah
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