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letra de 4 in a faygo - sematary

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[intro]
haunt-o-holixxx
gettin’ top in that droptop with the top off
f-ck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off (du-du-du-du)
f-ck a opp, in that droptop with the top off
f-ck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off
gettin’ top in that droptop with the top off
f-ck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off (du-du-du-du-)
(hauntaholics, you b-st-rd!)
what up, anvil?
moundrich season, ho
grave man on the beat, make it go insane
grave man, woo, woo
haunt-o-holixxx the mixtape, b-tch!
pour a four in a faygo, grave man, grave man
yeah, go (3am gang)
moundrich, b-tch

[chorus]
pour a four in a faygo ’til my mind slow
pop three, b-tch, i pop four, oxycodone
ride slow with my scarecrows, and they all go
psycho, we some psychos, better off alone
rust cohle, feel like rust cohle, i see real ghosts
stay true, gotta stay true, got a filthy soul
fly though, i stay fly though, my haunted mound polo
all alone at the party, bеtter off alone
gettin’ top in that droptop with thе top off
f-ck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off (du-du-du-du)
f-ck a opp, b-tch, h-ll nah, he get curb stomped
mound boss with my bands up, laughing at y’all
shawty, looking hot as f-ck, dance to this old song
party, that boy talk tough ’til he see my gun
smoking and we rolling, back of the he-rs- truck
going dumb, yeah, our brains gone, we don’t give a f-ck
[bridge]
we don’t give a f-ck, we don’t give a f-ck
yeah, yeah
haunt-haunt-hauntaholics

[chorus]
pour a four in a faygo ’til my mind slow
pop three, b-tch, i pop four, oxycodone
ride slow with my scarecrows, and they all go
psycho, we some psychos, better off alone
rust cohle, feel like rust cohle, i see real ghosts
stay true, gotta stay true, got a filthy soul
fly though, i stay fly though, my haunted mound polo
all alone at the party, better off alone
gettin’ top in that droptop with the top off
f-ck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off (du-du-du-du)
f-ck a opp, b-tch, h-ll nah, he get curb stomped
mound boss with my bands up, laughing at y’all
shawty, looking hot as f-ck, dance to this old song
party, that boy talk tough ’til he see my gun
smoking and we rolling, back of the he-rs- truck
going dumb, yeah, our brains gone, we don’t give a f-ck

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