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 ​charlotte sartre - tricky youth

Loading...

[verse 1]
smoking broken windows, it’s a f-ckin’ riot
she said that she love me, i said f-ck me like i’m dying
pulled up in a black jeep, turn the lights on bright yeah
bodies all up on the hill, b-tch why you lying
slim reaper how you livin’ so low
whatchu say, better pray for the boy
a lil luck, drowned in tuss, bless the young god
slim reaper why you go so f-ckin’ hard
if i want you dead, then you f-ckin’ dead
simmer down, put the scope on your f-ckin’ head
piped up, mortuary turn the lights up
see the phantom beaming, know it’s ’cause that boy iced up
[chorus]
count money, rotting in a grave
lookin’ for that real, could you be more fake?
all the sh-t that you say
just wanna makе it all go away
feelin’ sick feelin’ so depraved
stood and watched whilе my body break
i’d do whatever you say
if you could make it all go away

[verse 2]
b-tch you think i’m crazy because i’m always hallucinating
dreamin’ gucci angel wings but b-tch you know my name is satan
put the drill right to ya dome and now it’s you prayin’ for saving
cocaine on the razor blade, blood in the jeep, you think i’m playin’
(ay) prophecy from the uzi
(ay) make a b-tch wish she knew me
(ay) driving them funeral porsches
(ay) thirty rounds an abortion
(ay) shootin’ them poles from the porches
(ay) i f-cked yo girl in my jordans
(ay) hope that my death will make more cents
(ay) ’cause this f-ckin’ life is so boring
b-tch know i’m a f-ckin’ f-ggot, take it back b-tch you can have it
weapon underneath my shirt, all in the dirt, a f-cking maggot
emptied out the full clip, b-tch, and i ain’t finished sprayin’
swervin’ like the serpent, i pull on that mask, i’m jason, b-tch
[chorus]
count money, rotting in a grave
lookin’ for that real, could you be more fake?
all the sh-t that you say
just wanna make it all go away
feelin’ sick feelin’ so depraved
stood and watched while my body break
i’d do whatever you say
if you could make it all go away
count money, rotting in a grave
lookin’ for that real, could you be more fake?
all the sh-t that you say
just wanna make it all go away
feelin’ sick feelin’ so depraved
stood and watched while my body break
i’d do whatever you say
if you could make it all go away

[verse 3]
caught a body riding in the may
pull up hit a switch, -gunshot- on a f-ckin’ lame
slim reaper with the f-ckin’ game
what you owe, boy, you gonna pay
spread hate like a f-ckin’ plague
45 on the diamond chain
young bull wylin’ know i’m gonna stay
yeah you wishin’ it would go away

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS

Loading...