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letra de burbs - nanii2x

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nanii2x
i don’t want a thot hoe
want a b-tch from the ‘burbs (uh huh)
that boy sn-tchin’ what?
boy that sh-t for the birds (nuh uh)
b-tch i’m too geeked, and i’m not talkin’ nerds (uh huh)
slide with the stick, it’s too late for them words (yeh)
you got yo’ fye took, and you won’t get this back (uh huh)
just got my re-up, b-tch you know imma tax (ay, ay)
i’m not smokin’ bubba, this pure heart attack (uh huh)
hit yo’ b-tch from the back, then i dip out the back (oh yeah)
big 205, b-tch you know that we ready
he say he want beef, we got sh-t like the deli (boom, boom, let’s go, boom, boom)
hop out the car, hit ’em up, now he smelly (yeah)
finna p-ss on a n-gga, no h0m-, r kelly

ybp quay
me and nanii, we tryna’ go slide in a chevy
he dissin’, i let 30 shots to his belly
grippin’ this carbon, that b-tch shootin’ steady
these n-ggas be sweet, strawberry jelly
he [?] his partner, like b-tch why you left me?
can’t f-ck with this hoe, she too boujee and petty
she suck the d-ck sloppy, it’s groovy and messy
white b-tch she gon’ f-ck, ion’ care ’bout a becky
i’m like hoe, get yo’ ass over here, you too s-xy
i dare a opp n-gga, won’t come try to test me
clutchin’ this k, man, that b-tch barely heavy
aye, come get yo’ hoe, she keep blowin’ my celly
aye, these n-ggas be slippin’
catch a opp n-gga in walmart, and stomp ’em for dissin’
7.62s, boy, them b-tches be rippin’
all blues in my pocket, but b-tch i’m not crippin’
my n-ggas gon’ spin on the opps if they trippin’

stretchgang don
i roll, not stack
imma crip, not a slatt (crip)
we gon’ get his soul sn-tched, for that speakin’ on wax (oh yeah, oh yeah)
them folks mad when i speak, but i’m just speakin’ facts
told that b-tch bring her friend, they gettin’ freaked like a black
i get the pack gone
dababy
remember them days i would clutch .22 and .380
i wish a n-gga would, like jada
need to be put on tlc, got an addiction to paper (that cash)
like a spa mask, we gon’ face ’em
when i up with this flame, imma blaze ’em (buh, buh, buh, buh)
just like thanos, erase him
my gun hot as f-ck, yo’ sh-t cold like a glacier
they don’t play with that boy, cause they know they can’t faze him
new opp pack in the air, celebration
i’m cuttin’ up like a haitian
smokin’ good gas like jamaicans
like i’m islamic, don’t f-ck with the pigs or eat bacon (f-ck 12)
he wasn’t fit for an open casket
they had to cremate him
360 jeezy, up the choppa and fade him
[?] for the rest of verbatim
i get the pack, make it flip like a skater
i get the pack, make it flip like a gymnast
i spin the block all day, 24 hours, fitness (spin, spin)
i’m in the kitchen like i’m makin’ chicken
up the rocket
send 33 shots, scotty pippen
nanii2x
23- 23 shots out this clip, i’m lebron
this ain’t mortal kombat, will not test yo’ brawn
you froze with the bl!ck? the f-ck is you on?
creep out in all black, like that n-gga jawaun
boy you a b-tch, hoe you out like draemon
these n-ggas be green, like that n-gga draymond
still gotta’ remind these n-ggas
i don’t want a thot hoe
want a b-tch from the ‘burbs
that boy sn-tchin’ what?
boy that sh-t for the birds
b-tch i’m too geeked, and i’m not talkin’ nerds
slide with the stick, it’s too late for them words
you got yo’ fye took, and you won’t get this back

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