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letra de boone goons - nunes

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[verse 1: calliber]
don’t wanna hear them rap
don’t wanna hear them sing
don’t wanna hear a diss
don’t wanna hear a thing
sh-t is really hit or miss
and i’m down to let it bang
and i’m sparking up a spliff
with the motherf-ckin’ gang
heard that they was talking sh-t
tell ’em say it to my face
if you really wanna trip
then this glock get you erased
they wanna hit l!cks
cause they wanna little taste
i ain’t even gonna trip
i ain’t even gotta chase
thirty on my hip
back up gimme sp-ce
got a whip i wanna race
got a blunt i’m fitting to face
i ain’t gotta beat a case
i ain’t gotta play it safe
this the icing on the cake
tell me who gon’ f-ck with me
got some cash
got a card
got some shooters in the yard
only come out after dark
better run if you a narc
me and nunes we goin’ hard
imma have to catch a charge
me and nunes we’ve got some goons
puttin’ on the town of boone
been real since the f-cking womb
take your b-tch to my bedroom
all that bullsh-t i’m immune
all that bullsh-t i’m immune

[verse 2: nunes]

i’m a young dingklage with the fentanyl itch
told my doctor that i wouldn’t but i’m poppin’ that sh-t
and i got my hand on the p-ssy with the tightest grip
drink until i’m feeling dizzy but i’m bustin’ that lip
and i always got a condom on
if she be tryin’ to play a con
i’m gonna wear a rubber if she’s wearing plastic all along
take a toke
watch the smoke
come from my waist when i am loced
and take the barrel when you gonna choke
as you feel the bullets go down your throat
i’m gonna get cash cause i always do
got my hand around a glock got a juul in my shoe
i gotta get another pod for the juno, too
got a f-cking box mod in the middle of school
i be reppin’ caliber, obigd, slim p-n-s
suckd-cker, it’s owen, boone, no one can beat us
man i keep the window cleanest so that everyone can see us
roll up to your place and shoot you up and give your girl my p-n-s

[verse 3: slim p-n-s]
another little nunes on the track
i’m a double sided hack
i don’t even need to throw up any hands
i’m ashamed of the fact
f-ck the fame imma rap
people get the f-ck up on my and i wanna pop a cap
i don’t wanna see the past
i just wanna make it fast
i don’t need to do another single imma make it last
i’m a short motherf-cker but i’ll k!ll your -ss
i don’t whip a chevy but i still get -ss
if don’t wanna see a psychopath
go hit the dirt
cause it don’t hurt
to show you care what i’m going over
you’d better get up and leave
n0body wants to grieve
i might just get the gat if you ain’t hearing me
locked up
i’m hiding behind bars
don’t follow me you ain’t gonna go far

[verse 4: busta nut]
call me busta nut ’cause i’m coming in hard
i wear a helmet motherf-cker and i carry a card
took too many trezzies, now they call me a tard
took too many hits now i’m lolling my jaw
but you’d better f-cking bet that i’ve still got bars
and you’ll never f-cking get what it’s like to be hard
got heroin, weed, ketamine, pcp
let me make this crystal clear like methamphetamine
it’s still thirty days ’till the first of the month
the only lettuce i’ve got is the gas in my blunt
make a human sandwich; i’ll take a bite of a c-nt
but i’m the only one who f-cked cause i’m too poor to front

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