letra de red december - money$team
[freejc]
ignorant as f-ck son, where do you come from
actin’ like we give a f-ck when you can’t even get one
redmasta bends over and takes my lyrical rape
boy, you a bigger monkey that editor we call ape
white little redmasta, so really you’re pink
and i’m high off that good, but my sh-t don’t stink
red, this is the part where you cower in fear
frozen in my headlights, i’ll take you out like a deer
burning my trees and i’ll burn your sh-t down too
bambi looks like the hulk when compared to you
murdateam copied the swag of that money$team crew
i’m a giant looking down on your smurf -ss, blue
f-ck i meant to say red, but said blue instead
i messed up once and now you’ll probly start a thread
trying to get some pub ’bout how i’m f-cked in the head
but you only catch thumbs down, must be why they call you red
you wish you had that green, like me and my mean team
money$team’s flows stream like heems’, bentleys and beams
dreaming tg or me would call you up screaming those things
but only b-tches dream about the day they get with the kings
how do i put this nicely, get off of my d-ck
i’ll try to say this politely, you’re making me sick
you tried telling me that common threw some shots at drake
that’s sweet, but sense is what your argument didn’t make
next you’ll try telling me this is a diss towards ape
because i dropped his name once, you red b-tch c-nt
see you nothing to me, red, you just fruity like runts
what i make in a day, you’ll never make in months
jc is awesome, flossin’, boy you lost in austin
your career’s a dead possum, that towel should be tossed in
you gonna say sh-t about state? you better back off
son, you jealous, you wish you were the one gettin jacked off
you playing with other boys b-lls and sticks, thats a lax off
i’m a vet in the game, dog you’re neutered, hacked off
i’m sick, you make me throw up, cold like my nose runny
redmasta planted on wack miller’s d-ck like a honey
so, child, before you cross another line tryna to be funny
i’ll corleone your white -ss, we ain’t talkin’ bout sonny
dropped a bomb on your sh-t, you can call me van wernher
i suggest you cl!ck where it says “log out” in the corner
and go back to being wack and chilling on ep-rner
and we can end this before it involves the coroner
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