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letra de rojo (feat. atlmd) - $pice boi

(it’s spice boi on the track)

he say he sorry but i do not give a f-ck imma leave his -ss on read
if you gotta problem me and my n-ggas gon meet you anywhere you said
we gon put a bullet in your head
we gonna put you to bed
all of my n-ggas wear red
all of ‘em poppin’ them meds
pop ‘em all triple thread
shoot ‘em all like i said
look at my head you see dreads
shoot at that spot and you bled
we always runnin’ from feds
f-ck with us then you dead

double stack foam cup
i shoot and you squeak like a pup
you think you’re hard and you’re tough
your hands are not even rough
my homies got all the puff
pastillas and the green stuff
we gon sell it all over seas
already spread it around indy
i’m talking carmel, fishers, hse
all of these b-tches so easy to please
injun so all a’s never d’s
stacking up all of these rupees
like a lion i gotta mane
all of your cash look the same (a dollar!)
put in work and i train
running hard every day
pushing fast like a train
high mileage we go insane
we running hard and we push through the race
i just counted 4 thousand in front of your face
too much cash yea we gotta use rakes
all of this cash that i put in a safe
i’m about to go thirty we rolling up tape
like a matador, i got the red cape
your shooters shoot three while my shooters shoot eight
you thought you were winning till i pulled a check mate

yuh aye
all of n-ggas wear red
sn-tchin your ho take her straight to the bed
getting this paper, i’m getting this bread
you diss on my name i’ll put holes in your head (aye)
i cannot f-ck with you n-ggas
drop off a brick with my hand on the trigger
your team is some monkeys my gang is gorillas
my shooters is waiting with forties they k!llers
my shooters be balling for money and sh-t
all of you hating just cuz i am rich
i don’t waste no time i don’t f-ck w no b-tch
planting c-4’s better watch where you sit (yuh)
i got ten racks on me right now (right now)
pull up with a stick make you pipe down (pipe down)
pistol with a silence it dont make a sound (sshh)
better be careful in my hometown (skkrt)

running from feds running out of my time
trust only homies these n-ggas so slime
been wanting that cash but hoes wanna snort lines
i’m for real ‘bout this sh-t so don’t you be lying
my crew original y’all just a parody
i can’t expect you to come up with a melody
free up my homies convicted of felonies
we don’t know no mercy watch out all my enemies
so shut your -ss up still talking that trash
you need a mint your breath smelling like -ss
don’t talk to me i don’t f-ck with your -ss
be careful cuz we finessing your cash
n-ggas that test me about to get socked
salty cuz they mans was lost to my glock
if you a real pull up to my block
ain’t a broke boy i’m gon carry them rocks
feds in my crib they be trying to find dope
your chain is a string while my chain is a rope
your girl leaving you when she look at my clothes
she know this n-gga been making that dough
all of my homies been chasing that money
shut your -ss up i don’t think this is funny
i’m a fly n-gga i’m stearin your honey
louis supreme just like i am bad bunny

- pice boi

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