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letra de double cup - tg kommas

[chorus]
double cup my styrofoam, spit fye through that microphone
sh-ttin on all my haters, they say i need to put a diaper on
big glock is my firearm, send shots where the opps roam
turnt up on a b-tch, them n-ggas mad because they not on

[bridge]
yeah we keep that pipe on, i just tell em right on
catch you one and stretch you one, dont stop until his life gone
i just threw back two of em, just to turn my lighter on
jiggin out my body ima turn up til the night gone

[verse 1]
catch you one n stretch you one, pop me one n flex me one
dirty b-tch can’t get no play my b-tches up [?]
40. glock my favorite gun, this b-tch herе a special one
switch on the back this b-tch, you play lil b-tch n im gon blеss me one
im lil trench i can get it done, [?] straight n zip me one
f-cked up like my mama, say lil mama, im ms. crystal son
drank that syrup like [?], broke her neck, won’t clap her buns
i just need a bad b-tch to suck my d-ck until i cum
say the word b-tch and watch, we come
bow, b-tch, take your l!ck, unt unt, dont f-ckin run
stop all that faking you ain’t never shot no f-ckin gun
lemme take my belt off b-tch n whoop you like my f-cking son
[chorus]
double cup my styrofoam, spit fye through that microphone
sh-ttin on all my haters, they say i need to put a diaper on
big glock is my firearm, send shots where the opps roam
turnt up on a b-tch, them n-ggas mad because they not on

[bridge]
yeah we keep that pipe on, i just tell em right on
catch you one and stretch you one, dont stop until his life gone
i just threw back two of em, [?] turn my lighter on
jiggin out my body ima turn up til the night gone

[verse 2]
b-tch im jiggin out my body, rolling harder than yo potna
f-ck yo potna, im wit my potna, we got choppas, they can’t stop us
smoke a opp pack this that ganja, fill a backwood up with oppas
come through drippin in designer, you can’t see me with binoculars
we steady hollin’ f-ck the coppas, they won’t jam us up
they had to get behind me, ain’t no stoppin
im gon do the dash n gas it up
b-tch dont ask whats in my pocket, you can’t get nothin but a batch of nut
you know a n-gga got it, but i pretend like i ain’t have nothin
cause i can’t give a b-tch nothin, but i can give a n-gga bullets
got plenty shooters, plenty iron, tryna pop ya top, knock off ya hoodie
got beaucoup ho’s, they super fine, with pretty skin, and pretty p-ssy
got alot of opps but them n-ggas dyin, treat em like my b-tch, them n-ggas p-ssy
[chorus]
double cup my styrofoam, spit fye through that microphone
sh-ttin on all my haters, they say i need to put a diaper on
big glock is my firearm, send shots where the opps roam
turnt up on a b-tch, them n-ggas mad because they not on

- tg kommas

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