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letra de like really tho - nephew texas boy

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[intro]
i-r-i, yeah yeah
nephy three times, haha, come on

[chorus]
all my kinfolk sell dope, pimp hoes, rob foes
k!ll foes, kick doors, like really, though
i do not trust these hoes, or love these hoes
clap my chopper, hit my dance on these hoes
i’m the type of motherf-cker take your b-tch
make her come back to my condo, suck my d-ck
right there on my kitchen floor
my paint look like cocaine, catch a drain, feel me
might hit the flame, put lemon pepper on my wings

[verse 1]
f-ck hoes, sell dope, love hoes, snort c0ke
i’m a dog -ss n-gga, love these dog -ss hoes
i’ll take your b-tch, make her suck a thousand d-cks
make her turn a thousand tricks, i just bought a thousand sticks
what’s up, what’s up, what’s up, champ?
my diamonds light up like lamps
i used to shoot dice with food stamps, food stamps
food, food, food, food, food stamps
my brick better have two stamps, my heroin press got two clamps
chop a n-gga down like a tree, n-gga
like deh-deh-deh-deh-deh-deh-deh-deh
got twenty bad hoes in the club with me
me and camp hunna got twin pistols
me and camp hunna f-ckin’ twin sisters
ran off with a brick by the chinchila
i’m a real, real, real, real, real n-gga
f-ck that, i’m a real, trill, trill n-gga
these days i really don’t feel n-ggas
k, k, k, k, wanna k!ll n-ggas

[chorus]
all my kinfolk sell dope, pimp hoes, rob foes
k!ll foes, kick doors, like really, though
i do not trust these hoes, or love these hoes
clap my chopper, hit my dance on these hoes
i’m the type of motherf-cker take your b-tch
make her come back to my condo, suck my d-ck
right there on my kitchen floor
my paint look like cocaine, catch a drain, feel me
might hit the flame, put lemon pepper on my wings

[verse 2]
i’ll be d-mned if i stop if i get flagged by the cops
burberry bandana on my head like 2-2-2-2pac
i’m the big kahuna, i smoke marijuana
if you run up on me, vato, you gon’ meet that coroner
mucho traficante, i got sauce, picante
he didn’t make it out the egg crate but he ’bout that gun play
b-tch, this real givenchy, but this motherf-cker stolen
don’t you owe me, b-tch? you finna sell some p-ssy for me?
it ain’t stealin’ ‘less you caught, cook that dope up with a fork
everything i got, i bought, i-i-i-i-i-i bought
i don’t pl-pl-pl-play games, i’m not-not-not-not no lame
i take this chopper, c-ck it back, and shoot you dead in your face

[chorus]
all my kinfolk sell dope, pimp hoes, rob foes
k!ll foes, kick doors, like really, though
i do not trust these hoes, or love these hoes
clap my chopper, hit my dance on these hoes
i’m the type of motherf-cker take your b-tch
make her come back to my condo, suck my d-ck
right there on my kitchen floor
my paint look like cocaine, catch a drain, feel me
might hit the flame, put lemon pepper on my wings

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