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letra de meezy99 - meezy sg

meezy99 lyrics
[verse 1: meezy sg]
the top, i’m on my way to there
put that chop to his lip, ain’t no more facial hair
i’ma send him up there, he gon’ see angels there
it’s red on his shirt, but it’s no paint on there
my shooters perform ’til you die, they don’t care (dontsleep)
sometimes one choppa jam, so i gotta keep a pair
n-gga say he gon’ rob me, he’ll try, but it’s rare
i got all this d-mn drip, can’t decide what to wear
i been with it since 2001, you can’t touch me
use the stick on these n-ggas if they wan’ play rugby
i had switched out the clip and he ran, he was lucky
we gon’ catch him down bad on his ass and then bust him
i ran down on thе plug, ain’t wan’ cop, he got jank
he a b-tch, he a l!ck, so his pockеts got spanked
yeah, i tried to hit shawty, that joint kinda stank
f-ck i look like, t-pain? i can’t buy you no drink
b-tch, i’m ’bout to hit the mall, i’ma ball, like a maverick
if the gang in the b-tch then we wreakin’ some havoc
if a n-gga want smoke, we pull up, let him have it
i got racks bustin’ out of the jeans ’cause i’m havin’
got the glock with the laser, we ’bout to do some taggin’
i’m the best n-gga out and i’m not even braggin’
endless bands in my pocket, the reason i’m saggin’
he need eighty? got hit with the stick like it’s magic
n-gga purpin’, pulled up on the strip, he ain’t passin’
n-ggas throw on designer and swear they got fashion
put potato’s on barrels and we get to mashin’
n-gga, me? stayin’ broke? somethin’ i can’t even imagine
she say we got connection, we ain’t f-ck, so it’s laggin’
give a f-ck ’bout a hater, say that with a passion
he say she wasn’t green then he f-cked and got rashes
he tried rob me, got shot, now he dead and i’m laughin’
[verse 2: since99]
hit ‘heem with a spark, you can say that i’m terkin’
and they hate from a distance, i know that they lurkin’
he fed up, he cryin’, i know that he hurtin’
these crackers can’t cut up like me, that’s for certain
finna take yo’ b-tch out, i’ma buy her a birkin
and i stay in the stu’, b-tch, you know that i’m workin’
hit him up with the gl!ck, now he bleedin’ and spurtin’
i got shooters in d.c., ain’t talkin’ ’bout bertāns
finna creep on your side, i ain’t makin’ a sound
on a track with meezy, now these b-tches gon’ run around
i’ma fly out to sydney and smoke me a hunnid pounds
switch up the style ’cause i got me a hunnid sounds
posted with your b-tch, i’m lastin’ a hunnid rounds
run up a pack, b-tch, i’m feelin’ like jim brown
i’m sippin’ on tec’, i ain’t f-ckin’ with no crown
you steady cappin’, but you don’t even own a gown
talk of the town
stay with some dogs, b-tch, i stay with hounds
you pop you a up, now you feelin’ down
don’t play with the drip if you finna drown
i don’t give a f-ck, i don’t give a d-mn
like i’m a vlogger, put him on cam’
slide up on his block like some grease, ain’t talkin’ bout spam
i ain’t from detroit, but that boy is a ham

- meezy sg

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