letra de a lil too sober - lil z flex
when i pull up i dump that b-tch out
ima empty this clip, this b-tch spit like a llama
we gon run in this house (on rundown)
bust this boy gram, he gon paint his pajamas
if that n—- try me ima k!ll him, pop him like a pimp
make him dance like it’s thriller
ima slit that boy throat (on rundown)
screaming “i don’t”, call him bryson tiller
when i pull up i dump that b-tch out
ima empty this clip, this b-tch spit like a llama
we gon run in this house (on rundown)
bust this boy gram, he gon paint his pajamas
if that n—- try me ima k!ll him, pop him like a pimp
make him dance like it’s thriller
ima slit that boy throat (on rundown)
screaming “i don’t”, call him bryson tiller
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober
i need to smoke gas cause a n—- bipolar
i put your ass in a coma
say you want smoke p-ssy boy ima roll you
bust out your ass
ima go gta with the sticks and i don’t mean controllers
put that on my set if a n—- try me ain’t no talking, i’m up and i’m blowing
all of my n—-s messed up wearing black
mostly you rap, but it’s really be cap
most of y’all p-ssy, i’m shooting through apps (bang)
2.2 put a hole in his hat
he tried to run, put a hole in his back
got off probation i’m opening a pack
this ain’t the gas, i’m on your ass, (evening?) on me you know ima spaz, yeah
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (on rundown, yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (on rundown, yeah)
i think i’m a little too sober (yeah)
when i pull up i dump that b-tch out
ima empty this clip, this b-tch spit like a llama
we gon run in this house (on rundown)
bust this boy gram, he gon paint his pajamas
if that n—- try me ima k!ll him, pop him like a pimp
make him dance like it’s thriller
ima slit that boy throat (on rundown)
screaming “i don’t”, call him bryson tiller
i swear that i’m evil, that n—- try me i won’t use a gun, p-ssy boy ima beat him
and no i don’t need them
that evil inside of me going bezerk like a f-cking i really don’t think i can beat it
f-ck a b-tch i’m tryna take a p-ssy n—- head off, n—- one pop to his brain, then i sped off (skrt)
when i hop in the stu it be hot like haters they be like thats the 912 baby
heard he dissing b-tch i’ll be the first to paint him, better watch out if you talk, ima f-cking bang
welcome to the only planet its a war, on god
cause i’m evil so don’t look inside my eyes
got a couple of n—-s i know that’s gon ride
but this sh-t it get cut like the blade on my knife
but i’m too sober, a n—- on go, i’m seventeen with a darkness in my soul
i woke up red all in my eye, f-ck i must be high but why
thats the place i’m in, lil different from when i had closed my eyes
i think that i lost it, i’m the crazy motherf-cker dripping head first to the marsh pit
if i were you i would proceed with caution, i’m literally waiting on p-ssy n—-s to start sh-t
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