letras.top
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de x-files - shootergang kony

Loading...

[intro]
better cast the field
ayy

[chorus]
ayy, it’s f-ck my old b-tch, left her in the ex-files
i pop out, noodle him, stick him for coming ’round
where was you when i was down? i was lost and no one was found
baptize him with these sh-lls, watch him drown
i’ma, ayy, hit the set, won’t need bail
i was by myself, all i want an email
i told myself it’s not another weed sale
me tell, i don’t do it for the hood, we fail

[verse 1]
glizzy with a d-ck, hit the load, take a cold trip
catch me in the vip with a pole and a dope b-tch
pull up with a stick, he ain’t know, flip his whole whip
open up a n-gg- like a throw, i’m on broski
f-ck is this? lookin’ for a g, you don’t pop out
mops out, shoot a n-gg- right in front his moms house
if his mom bang, cool, figure what his moms ’bout
if she payin’ n-gg-s, pimp the blood out her mouth
want a route, we go south, we gon’ shoot somebody, cuz
i knew he was a sucker, if he wasn’t, thought he was
ever seen a dead n-gg- runnin’ from his body, blood?
love my dawg, let him shoot it ’cause i know he got him one, b-tch

[chorus]
f-ck my old clip, lost it in the x-file
pop up, noodle him, notice he come around
what we eating over here, where was you when kony was down?
baptize him with these sh-lls, watch him drown
i’ma, ayy, hit the set, won’t need bail
i was by myself, all i want an email
i told myself it’s not another weed sale
me tell, i don’t do it for the hood, we fail

[verse 2]
now the pigs out grilling, tryna figure out the body
ain’t no winner, it be hotter than a garden of wasabi
on the team, play a slapper or we shootin’ up the party
you give game to the b-tch, i’m the game, i’m atari
black dre on my boards so you know my sh-t slap
gotta run the track while i get it out her bag
used to be a b-mmy lil’ n-gg-, ask strap
now i’m eatin’, every day she wanna tell me i’m a snack
we ain’t f-ckin’ with anybody, it’s chops for your stupid -ss
hit him on the ten or four, hit again, do the math
what’s a p-ss? tryna hit his body with the br-ss
i don’t brag, only talk about a murder with the staff

[chorus]
ayy, it’s f-ck my old b-tch, left her in the ex-files
i pop out, noodle him, stick him for coming ’round
where was you when i was down? i was lost and no one was found
baptize him with these sh-lls, watch him drown
i’ma, ayy, hit the set, won’t need bail
i was by myself, all i want an email
i told myself it’s not another weed sale
me tell, i don’t do it for the hood, we fail

- shootergang kony

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS

Loading...