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letra de filthy hands - pro dillinger & machacha

[intro: big trip]
big umbrella sh-t, n-gga
pro, what up?
look, muah!

[verse 1: big trip]
we did it and seen darker days
told my lady “roll some j’s, burn some sage, load the gauge”
we just tryna catch our wave, dodge our grave
f-cks some fay, let’s get paid
laid up on a beach, umbrella’s is all in our drinks
these cobanas only sign a shay
sun raise at the vacay, transitions in my cartiers
stone-face, go to war, finna steal cage
let the team mate everything, man i feel like i’m raymond james
standin’ steady on my stance and i won’t change
dirty-dirty dancin’ out my lab, it’s a cold game
givin’ fiends sixteens in this cold game
audio cocaine, i hold vain
i need that fourty-two presi
wrist in the oval
catch me on my dolo
i ain’t really social, but i wish a n-gga would like some 55 oak wood
that’s detroit sh-t
big hammers, we just don’t point sh-t
i’m surgical with this b-tch, jake office ahoy sh-t
but f-ck 12, grab a umbrella lookin’ at upscale
buyin’ low and sellin’ high, this a upsale
[chorus: pro dillinger & big trip]
i’m filthy with a grip (muah!)
scummy ’til i’m dead, but it’s filthy in this b-tch
i been movin’ foul, w-lly-nilly with a stick
my n-ggas caught another one, we guilty in this b-tch
we guilty in this b-tch
i’m filthy with a grip (uh)
scummy ’til i’m dead, but it’s filthy in this b-tch (big 1 9 sh-t, n-gga)
i been movin’ foul, w-lly-nilly with a stick (big umbrella sh-t)
my n-ggas caught another one (will gate ’em), we guilty in this b-tch (yo)
we guilty in this b-tch

[verse 2: pro dillinger]
yo
i get filthy with the bag (bag)
make it disappear, i’m getting tricky with the bag (tricks)
get the hoes wet, i’m pretty ricky with the bag (wack)
situations happen, sh-t get sticky for the bag
i’m sellin’ fiftys from the bag
i’m rap and f-ck ’em all
never gave a sh-t, my n-ggas duckin’ from the law, i put my trust aside the lord
keep my loved ones close, all my n-ggas signin’ off
i been signin’ contracts, see you n-ggas dyin’ off
big umbrella sh-t forever, n-ggas duckin’ from the rain
all my brothers put in work, you n-ggas duckin’ from the pain
you could shoot or make a pass, it ain’t no frontin’ for the game
you could play or hit the bench, it ain’t no duckin’ from the game
’22 it gave me lessons, but it had to be the year
takin’ losses on a humble, plate my sanity for years
took a look at who i must, broke my vanity in meres
i was drunk and letting go, but sh-t, it had to be the beers
[chorus: pro dillinger]
i’m filthy with a grip
scummy ’til i’m dead, but it’s filthy in this b-tch
i been movin’ foul, w-lly-nilly with a stick
my n-ggas caught another one, we guilty in this b-tch
we guilty in this b-tch
i’m filthy with a grip
scummy ’til i’m dead, but it’s filthy in this b-tch
i been movin’ foul, w-lly-nilly with a stick
my n-ggas caught another one we guilty in this b-tch
we guilty in this b-tch

[outro]
[?]

- pro dillinger machacha

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