letra de striker musik "gimme det" - nwm cee murdaa
[intro: nwm cee murdaa & [?]]
aww (huh?), he left the keys in his sh-t too? (skrrt, skrrt)
gimme’ ‘dat b-tch (ayy, skrrt)
[?]
murdaa!
[chorus:]
his dumbass left it runnin’ and he just jumped out a scat
gimme’ ‘dat, ripped out the mirror, cut the wire so we won’t get tracked
got it wrapped, first it was red, now we got that b-tch matted black
license plates say “jags,” this a charger, ripped it straight off the back
[verse:]
give her a stack, say she need it ’cause her n-gga ain’t got racks
wait ’till it get cold, i’m in wentzville, tryna’ strike the newest lack
not a verse, we keep ten diffеrent cars, and all ’em chirp to that
my ex-b-tch mad ‘causе we sn-tched her momma range, can’t get it back
i usually want twenty-five, but for janelle, give me the stack
juuged out his granny car, sold it back, he mad her ass got clapped
they mad, i don’t give a f-ck, what was she doin’ in the track?
we thought it was a regular jeep, old ass ain’t even notice that
and i got sumn’ for them n-ggas, don’t wanna’ leave they sh-t runnin’
wait ’till you sleep, park yo’ sh-t, get in another car and bump it
he came outside, seen that straight goin’, i know he had a upset stomach
knowin’ this a n-gga doin’ 200 in yo’ sh-t, tryna’ stomp it
tricked they ass, ain’t gave me nothin’ and i had turned that to somethin’
you wanna’ ride wit’ nun’, ain’t heard about me, boy, i strike wit’ a b-tton
i could pass the ball, but i be scared ’cause most these n-ggas might fumble
it’s not you for real, this me wit’ people, and sumn’ about ’em, can’t trust ’em
[?], stood on the pedal, got a cramp in my leg
police been behind me the last three lights, turnin’ off at newstead
i’m the reason yo’ favourite trapper goin’ broke and ain’t get no new bread
’cause i seen this ten-car line, said “gimme ‘dat,” he got ten new heads
aww, he mad? tell him come and sn-tch his people back
you only took his [?], tell him i’m comin’ for that beamer next
i only ride wit’ glock clips, i won’t jam, i put that see-through back
and we got big sh-t, 250-cal, hit you, make yo’ ass collapse
which whip i’ma strike today? i think i wanna’ scat
get me a new bumble bee, full of stingers, and make you rat
knock at yo’ crib like, “h-llo, forgot sumn’,” come out, whip got sn-tched
[?], got a new one attached
[chorus:]
his dumbass left it runnin’ and he just jumped out a scat
gimme’ ‘dat, ripped out the mirror, cut the wire so we won’t get tracked
got it wrapped, first it was red, now we got that b-tch matted black
license plates say “jags,” this a charger, ripped it straight off the back
[outro: nwm cee murdaa & [?]]
gong, ayy, sh-t, ayy, skrrt
gong, this that real striker music, man
gong, ayy, [?]
[?]
gong, ayy, [?]
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