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letra de voice mails - sage god

[intro]
like dead -ss bro i been trying to tell these n-ggas sage straight gas and sh-t you feel me? (on god fam)
hold on bro this b-tch calling me (yo who banging yo sh-t?)
n-gga f-ck this b-tch i’m finna send her -ss to voicemail, ooomp n-gga (ahaha)

-you have one new voice mail-
-playing message-

really sage you just not gonna answer your phone?
you know what f-ck you
it’s crazy how you get a couple of followers, a couple of fans
and you don’t know how to act now
got all these girls hitting your line, in your dms, in your comments

[verse]
hey, all gas no break i’m stepping on these n-ggas necks
sage why you live so fast cause i ain’t f-ckin died yet (b-tch)
i dont do no beef you a lame you a pet
baby ion wanna smooch i put my d-ck up in her neck
bad lil b-tch she spanish she so bad she from the valley (ok)
puerto rican jawn i call her sally with the fatty (ok)
lil bro he talkin tuff he lose his life cause he to chatty (ok)
folk it’s hot as h-ll in texas b-tch i’m sliding back to cali (yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh)
breaking down her walls and then i’m f-cking on her sister
she a thotty from atlanta ate my d-ck and then you kissed her (uh)
i don’t want your b-tch cause your hoe look like a mister
while your rolling up a swisher have the chopper give u splinters (pew, pew)
sage can’t love no b-tch so baby let me get that p-ssy
b-tch i love my toys so i named my choppa woody
told my jit safiy i give a f-ck about a jury
catch me sliding down the block i rob a n-gga for his jewelry (gimmie that sh-t b-tch)

[bridge]
that’s just how it go (uh huh)
ignorant young n-gga from the south just dont you know (woah woah)
and you already know (wait brrr brrrr)
b-tch stop calling my phone (yuh)

[verse 2]
you b-tches is gross, i’m calling em ketchup
you n-gga is broke, broke boy get yo bread up (yuh)
don’t do no talkin, b-tch give that neck up
you n-ggas is krillin you soft as a feather (yeah yeah)
she rollin off a bean she might chase it with a perc
ever since a jit, my money look like papa smurf
you already know (uh huh)
i’m the 8 ball in the pocket i’m the one on death row (woah woah)
please don’t pull up to my show (uh huh)
if that n-gga do he going home without his hoe
oh oh
now he tryna call his bro b-tch i’m aced up in this b-tch
i’m built for death b-tch don’t you know(oh oh)
please don’t pull up to my show (uh huh)
if that n-gga do he going home without his hoe
oh oh

- sage god

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