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letra de bad - lusyd

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[verse 1: lusyd]
fa’sho, fa’sho, fa’sho
fa’sho, fa’sho, fa’sho
grrr
fa’sho, fa’sho, fresh out
fresh out, fresh out
fresh out the bed
i had the peaceful option
i chose violence instead
oh sh-t, that’s the og hittin’
finna hit a puff, like the og diddy
take that, take that, i got more of these, n-gga
walk around with a cutter, finna mow these n-ggas
i’m on some bat sh-t
i’m on that blatt sh-t
i’m on some black sh-t
i’m on some activitis
smack a n-gga like i’m massa, if he talking back, bih
back! back!
back! back!
anyone can eat this back hand!
back back, i got a mac in my bag!
they stole off your back and you paid for it back!
you said you was bad, but what happened to that?
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop off of the brink
when i talk, man, it sound like a tank
’cause b-tch, what i want, i’ma take
wait, holla back when i’m back from the bank
[interlude: mał + lusyd]
hold on, i’m-i’m hungry
alright, take this (take that?)
alright bet

[verse 2: mał]
d-mn
i thought it was drank
i keep a shooter present
but i don’t need it
like it was drake
i keep some b-tches present
i don’t be giving presents
i keep the molly, the stick, the drink
but i can’t help these peasants
i’m going fast in the whip
i’m going fast in the lamb’
i’m going fast, but not as yo’ b-tch
she giving up top, she suckin’ on d-ck
no, i don’t ball, but i do not miss
i shot the n-gga, but i missed the charge
i dropped the roxi’ all the whip
i feel like future, bought a bad b-tch
bought a bad b-tch, but i don’t pay for the sh-t
she suckin’ and f-ckin’ all on my crew
all on my crew, d-mn, that’s your boo?
i’m in the stu, pass me the boof
pass me the stick and i’ll shoot off the roof
pass me the bad b-tch, i’d pass her to you
pass me the cup, b-tch, you can’t get that back
i am the king of the hill, b-tch, i’m slatt
he wanted problems, my choppa go blatt
my name is mał, i be so bad
i hit the bih, with the gl!ck in the back
i hit the b-tch from the cl-t from the back
i’m in her guts, mac and cheese how it sound
i aim the stick from the clip, b-tch, you’re found
i put a stick in the ground, like a founder
i love money, so she want me around her
caught her putting ten bands right in her purse
told the b-tch “after that, you gotta go”
“drop to your knees or hit the door”
“just keep the bread” i said “you need it more”
double cup ice, pour me up four
[verse 3: lusyd]
who want action? i’m back
“how you been?”
i been good, now i’m back on my bad sh-t
lights, camera, ass
beat from the back in 4k with the flash
flat sh-t, fashion
b-tch, i been bad like a mattress
they don’t want smoke, like a match to a black
me and mał in your home and we matchin’ in black
all up in yo’ kitchen and takin’ the snacks
all up in yo’ hoe and she makin’ it clap

[hook 1: lusyd]
bought me a bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back for my-what?
[verse 4: sol lace]
uh
hittin’ yo’ b-tch without a break, b-tch
i gotta muhf-ckin’ break, b-tch
you can’t even muhf-ckin’ break bread b-tch
i’m ’bout to pull out the kel-tec, i’m lettin’ it hit
it go tt-tt-tt-tt-tt-tt
lettin’ it rip like
(pfft, pfft, pfft)
lettin’ it rip
lil’ n-gga, yeah, you is a b-tch
got yo’ b-tch on my d-ck doin’ tricks
she really a fiend, she is sick
gettin’ greedy with k!lls
i might go send up my clip
i’m ‘finna set up my mags
i’m ’boutta go in my bag
i’m ’boutta go out real bad
these n-ggas goin’ out sad
these n-ggas really a b-tch
these n-ggas really is hoes
i’m about to leave you in a ditch
i’ma bury you where grass dont grow
then i smash your bad lil hoe
f-ckin’ her in my backseat
i teach her about the birds and the bees
i like foreigns, over the seas
pullin’ up, gave the valet my key
and hoe, stop talkin’ to me
you know i’m the top g
they callin’ lace papi
fytb the regime
emptyin’ out of my beam
emptyin’ all the clips
messin’ with me you get hit
tongue is the sword, callin’ up fitz
i am the lord and you is a b-tch
you drive an accord, you is not sh-t b-tch
or lit, b-tch
i’m lit b-tch, my aura
i’m lit b-tch
i’m lit b-tch, my aura
she gettin’ wet, just by my aura
sh-t gettin’ wet, i make her sore
nothin’ but slat
nothin’ but wack
nothin’ but flak
you n-ggas be emptyin’ out all the caps
i got a mini-gun, sprayin’ out facts
aim at your guts
you talkin’ too much?
choppa, it hush
shh, b-tch
i don’t even gotta write on sh-t
yeah, your hoe still gon’ ride on this d-ck
on god
this sh-t lit

[verse 5: lusyd]
i’m back, i’m back
i’m back, i’m bad
that’s how we doin’ ’em back
the teachers they said i was bad
’cause i was talking back
mike jack how i’m walking backwards (shamone!)
told my hoe “my phone got tapped”
i’m like “you off a bean, why you stalking my jack?”
if you suck from the front, i can blow from the back
i get it wet like a tap
water
she wonder how i do that
slaughter
i should just keep going
i should just let-do this the whole rest of the song
and it’s still gonna slap
grrr!
my sh-t gonna hit like a hook
i get it right with a hook
i should just go write a book
about how i’m bad and not good
’bout how i got back in my book bag

[hook 2: lusyd]
bought me a bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my uh
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
hop back in my uh
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta hop back in my bag
i’m ’boutta–

[outro: lusyd]
keep rockin’
or kick rocks
hold on

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