letra de cpr - mgm lett
[intro]
yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah)
yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah, al geno on the track)
this sh-t strictly for the motherf-ckin’ streets, n-gga
[chorus]
this that street sh-t, drop that sh-t, get everybody crunk
on my block, we don’t fight, but everybody bunk
this that g sh-t, hear this sh-t out everybody trunk
pull up three sticks, hundred shots, get everybody drummed
i made this sh-t for the hood
the police ’round the corner, it’s a brick in the bush
where was y’all antennas when this sh-t wasn’t good?
four shots to the body left me scarred
i stitched thе game up, now i’m finna give ’em cpr
[verse]
wakе ’em up
i grew up off dice, my point-six, bet it shake ’em up
this ain’t another n-gga chain, broke n-gga, i’m the owner
i got like twenty p’s left, do anybody want ’em?
twenty thousand for the cuban, b-tch, and that’s without the pendant
lot of n-ggas gettin’ money, but a lot of them won’t spend it
i trap all around the globe, you out of town, you still can get it
n-gga got caught and he told, police still didn’t reduce his sentence
n-ggas snitchin’ for no reason
i just brought the f-ckin’ trap back like jeezy
it’s a big difference between hungry and greedy
i got a twenty piece left, do anybody need it?
put the fn on his lip, let it kiss a n-gga good
n-gga ask me where i’m from, i say the wish a n-gga woods
i don’t need her, i would leave her, you can have her, she can go
i rock christian dior, dior, rest in paradise pop smoke
covid-19 on these n-ggas, i’m so sick of y’all
i just sold twenty bags this morning, that’s a fifty ball
n-ggas some fiends for that dope, they takin’ fentanyl
i wait my turn, but i’ma score every time i get the ball, yeah, yeah
slam dunk in the rim
my weed ain’t got no legs, but it jump out the gym
hard on the internet, he get slumped when i see him
if you wanna live like this, sell a p, b-tch
stay up on the sidewalk, n-gga, this that street sh-t
[chorus]
drop that sh-t, get everybody crunk
on my block, we don’t fight, but everybody bunk
this that g sh-t, hear this sh-t out everybody trunk
pull up three sticks, hundred shots, get everybody drummed
i made this sh-t for the hood
the police ’round the corner, it’s a brick in the bush
where was y’all antennas when this sh-t wasn’t good?
four shots to the body left me scarred
i stitched the game up, now i’m finna give ’em cpr
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