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letra de hibachi - otl beezy & f1lthy

[intro]
(wake up, f1lthy)
don’t f-ck with otl, that’s what i’m saying
bombaclaat, motherf-cker get k!lled
blatt, blatt, blatt, blam, blam, blam

[chorus]
d-mn, we just did him so filthy, he can’t wake up (woadie)
why the f-ck you n-ggas hate so much? go get your cake up (you hear me?)
all my opps p-ssy as a b-tch, lil’ woadie fake tough (blatt, blatt)
i’m the type to put them in a casket with some make-up
please, don’t make me swerve up with that cutter and them d cups (skrrt)
chopstick cooking in front of your friends like hibachi (ha)
make a more sit down and i hit tricks with that choppa
only gangsta with his crew, he dying in front of his partners (p-ssy)
[verse]
kick my first dope at thirteen, how about you? (how about you?)
put a rapper in backwood and hide the box in (pah)
boy, you p-ssy, you just act hood, camouflaging (p-ssy)
swerve up on that boy in person, he ain’t want no problems (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
real blooded n-gga, so you know i still shot ’em (blatt, blatt, blatt)
otl beezy, one slimy ass n-gga (slimy ass n-gga)
i be in the a with them rich slime n-ggas (rich slime)
f-ck this rap sh-t, i’m going back to drug dealing (f-ck it)
i might squash the beef and f-ck around and still k!ll you (slime)
i’ma buy two thousand bricks when a n-gga get a million (blatt)
i’m investing in some murders when a n-gga get a million (p-ssy)
i will zip a rapper up and still listen to his music (slime)
how the f-ck n0body died, but you n-ggas always shoot me? (lying)
my lil’ woadie shoot you in the name of love like he cupid (vyoom)
you got guns for instagram, woadie, you don’t ever use it (p-ssy)
got a switch up on that choppa, make you sing like whitney houston (fah-fah-fah-fah)
can’t wait ’til they free [?], he innocent, no, he ain’t do it (free [?])
better not go against the gang, p-ssy b-tch, you must be stupid (stupid ass n-gga)
nowadays everybody acting like some shooters (p-ssy)
’til they really meet a k!ller and he pull up like, “let’s do it” (let’s do it)
got a switch-up on that choppa, make you sing like whitney houston (hee-hee)
shoot that p-ssy n-gga ’til he smell of f-cking booty (p-ssy)

[chorus]
d-mn, we just did him so filthy, he can’t wake up (woadie)
why the f-ck you n-ggas hate so much? go get your cake up (slime)
all my opps p-ssy as a b-tch, lil’ woadie fake tough (blatt)
i’m the type to put them in a casket with that make-up (p-ssy)
please, don’t make me swerve up with that cutter and them d cups (d cups)
chopstick cooking in front his partners like hibachi (hibachi)
make a more sit down and i hit tricks with that choppa (pah, blatt)
[outro]
pah, pah, pah, pah

- otl beezy f1lthy

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