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letra de god forgive me - lp rambo

[verse one: kashout klil]
i did alot of sh-t, i just hope that god forgive me
when i die and see them gates i hope he don’t forbid me
and if you try to rob me, p-ssy boy, you better k!ll me
’cause i’m comin’ back and shootin’ backs, you’ll call me ricky
pull up on a opp block, hop out, start dumpin’ sh-t
record while slappin’ out a opp thot then publish it
n-gg-s always screamin’ “gang” but what work you puttin’ in?
police roll up to the block, and the crack i’m tuckin’ it
n-gg-s talkin’ but they not about it, n-gg- run up then you know i’m clappin’
.45 with a automatic, n-gg- beat to death ’cause they both rapid
run up on me, i’m goin’ havoc, k!ll a n-gg- with no mask
n-gg-s know i stay trappin’, you shootin’ sh-t, that’s invalid
put my city on the f-ckin’ map, no applause but that sh-t clap
shoot a f-ck n-gg- in his mouth, that’s a big gap
leave a n-gg- speedin’ like he runnin’ laps, on the block i keep the strap
that’s your girl and she let me slap but really, brodie, i just want the neck
she suckin’ me while i count a check, no computer but he get the mac
hop out of that black thing and i make sure my boys attack
in the stu i never lack, stop rappin, your sh-t wack
in the hood, you never lack don’t move or get your sh-t smacked
lil n-gg-

[interlude: kashout klil]
b-tch! already know what the f-ck goin’ on man
lp, rip this sh-t one time brodie, rambo gang sh-t, already know what’s craccin crodie, let’s get it!

[verse two: lp rambo]
i’m in h-ll with the ac on hot, n-gg-
h-ll’s kitchen with a baby on the pot, n-gg-
n-gg-, i don’t give a f-ck like a virgin
b-tch, my wrist’s a drunk diver in the kitchen it be swervin’
that’s my b-tch, you can’t touch, p-ssy n-gg- get your jergens
your b-tch made you wait up, she a waiter, she be servin’
she be doin’ my sh-t dirty, shut the blinds and close the curtains
put this d-ck down her throat, got this thot b-tch here burpin’
i better not see n-body wave ’cause i be surfin’ n-gg-s
f-ck the law, save yourself, i be purgin’ n-gg-s
cocaine for my breakfast, no exam, don’t test me
knock your head down your chest, turned your -ss to a necklace
no h-m-, but with poles we be strippin’ n-gg-s
n-gg-s think they hot fries then i’m dippin’ n-gg-s
in ketchup ’cause you behind in your feelings, n-gg-
i can’t find you then i’m puttin’ bullet holes in every buildin’, n-gg-

[outro: kashout klil & lp rambo]
gyuh! gyuh! gyuh! gyuh!
rambo gang, this the last of em
mb6, woop!

- lp rambo

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