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letra de jawana - nuk & glockboyz teejaee

[intro]
(his name’s pablo)
(bangthatsh-t)

[verse 1: nuk]
them b-tch-ass hemis couldn’t line up with a gas card
my dog be makin’ animals talk like madagascar
a moose with the antlers off, i gotta swag smart
only makin’ stops for the pit, i’m like a nascar
boy, i got this chop with a switch, that’s what my ‘rabs bought
mama caught me up with a zip, told her it’s bath salt
heard they probably wanna squeeze on squad, but this ain’t last thought
heard he went to school with the tars, now he on asphalt
i can’t put no bag on you, n-gga, you too incompetent
my dog be leavin’ n-ggas on they face like nate robinson
i be goin’ one-on-one with hoes like flex washington
my fiends say i got more sugar than ray robinson
they knowin’ how i be in the streets, they call me oxington
i’m tryna get a n-gga deceased like i’m in washington
it’s up anywhere, i don’t care if you in aisle 8
askin’ words, they blame us if they see foul play

[chorus: nuk & glockboyz teejaee]
all my n-ggas tryna get rich, we on some different ice
in the kitchen tryna get a split like scottie pipen wife
soon as i get it on the plate, they wanna light it up
i be in there dodgin’ crack smoke when they be pipin’ up
man, you can catch me in the hood runnin’ lights, it ain’t no stoppin’ us
turn a grown-ass n-gga to a b-tch like he juwanna
bustin’ guns every day, we got the hood hot like a sauna
i’m spillin’ juice, this ain’t o’hana when i’m ridin’ around with them choppers
[verse 2: glockboyz teejaee]
i’m droppin’ ashes on your b-tch, she start suckin’ d-ck while i’m facin’
my life amazing, f-ck the hoes i used to dream about in the bas-m-nt
man, i ain’t basic, like the hoes who suck the d-ck without me askin’
when it’s game time, i ball hog and take the shots, man, i ain’t passin’
man, i love when n-ggas post they hoes, i probably had a b-tch
ride around with the dracos, we don’t stash the bl!ck
n-ggas wouldn’t even be able to do no shows ’cause they had a hit
man, you know me at every function like an -n-lyst
got a flash on the glock, i’m makin’ movies on some camera sh-t
man better know if i be lackin’ on them pictures, i done slammed that b-tch
glock a tip dumb, my uncle, he be slammin’ bricks, slammin’ grits
sixth grade, i caught him in the kitchen, it d-mn near made me sick
man, big money, my n-gga nuk slammin’, come get a brick from him
i ain’t talkin’ ’bout no verse for him, a dub, might get a hit from him
see, we don’t rap for real, we trap for real, keep the strap for real
get a bag and turn that b-tch around and come right back for real

- nuk glockboyz teejaee

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