a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de activist - luvrello

[intro]
[?]…and sometimes it haunts me
the best thing that’s ever happened to me is sitting there…[?]

[verse]
why these n-ggas wanna talk sh-t, leave me alone
and i got that glock, b-tch, right at yo’ dome
i ain’t tryna talk shawty, what you on? (i ain’t tryna talk shawty, what you on?)
i’m just tryna f-ck, b-tch don’t call my phone (i’m just tryna f-ck, b-tch don’t call my phone)
i be smoking on that gas, b-tch i’m in my zone
i’m rocking that louis, givenchy and prada, told my shawty “girl you can get what you want”
i walk in the party, all the hoes on me, they like how i smell, they like my cologne
he play with my gang now he gotta die, send that boy to h-ll, now he on his own
you b-tches bе l, shawty did me wrong
don’t know how to feel so i make a song
like, why this pain won’t go away?
shawty said shе wanna fall in love, but i never cared anyway
my soul can’t take no more, told this shawty “can you be my escape?”
i do not wanna be on my own, got this hoe and i’m flying outta state
shawty bad but she p-ssing me off, tryna say everything is my fault
these n-ggas hate me, don’t know why at all
and i got that glock, just give me the call
move, get out my way
she got me tight, f-ck up out my face
sipping on pint, b-tch i love the taste
and i’m tryna get rich, got no time to waste
i said “i can’t fall down” (i can’t fall down)
girl you’ll never feel my pain, got me looking like a clown
they wanna k!ll me, why? i don’t know, can’t die right now
he want the smoke, choppa got the rounds
pull up on that boy, leave him on the ground
i’m selling that pack, bro just bought a pound
real ass n-gga trappin’ 9-5
i be outside coolin’ with my stick
smoking on gas, this sh-t got me high
i’m in yo’ crib f-cking on yo’ b-tch
he wanna fight, n-gga we can hit
i still got money counting when i sit
i got the bad b-tches poppin’ tits
but go get some racks n-gga, that ain’t sh-t
[outro]
why these n-ggas wanna talk sh-t, leave me alone
and i got that glock, b-tch, right at yo’ dome
i ain’t tryna talk shawty, what you on? (i ain’t tryna talk shawty, what you on?)
i’m just tryna f-ck, b-tch don’t call my phone (i’m just tryna f-ck, b-tch don’t call my phone)

- luvrello

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS