letra de peace (feat. jc rich) - triopias
[chorus: triopias]
we do not fight over here, we just gon keep wit the peace (let’s go)
yeah, i feel so high as the god, the 3 stripes on me look like adidas
ay, .45 right on my hip, driving x game mode with a jeep (what?)
huh, i cannot feel the pain on my face, you do not feel the same way that i feel
yeah, talk about sh-t about us, the f-ck is the deal? that motherf-cker bill (yuh)
uh, stop the talking sh-t, we boys working hard we stacking the bills (okay okay)
we just want the fun, we don’t give a f-ck, you a hater that we k!ll (pop off)
jealousy top of the grill, you a b-tch, you’re never the sh-t
[verse1: triopias]
we drinking the hennessy double cup, bottle after ‘nother bottle yuh
i woke up b-tch like a superstar, more guests coming in supermodel uh (okay!)
you copy me, and my mottos, ay risky chance like the lotto (lotto)
same tat as your daughter, uh f-ck the sleep all nighter (all nighter)
flipping the coin then i drop uh, f-ck the system and the plot hah (peace)
more money adding to the lot, gs25 is the spot (doom doom)
hitting the dope and i feel alive yeah, got too much to live about
don’t hang around the k!llers, ‘cause we know that we don’t play with the lies
[bridge: triopias]
okay okay
yuh
ay
[chorus: triopias]
we do not fight over here, we just gon keep wit the peace
yeah, i feel so high as the god, the 3 stripes on me look like adidas
ay, .45 right on my hip, driving x game mode with a jeep
huh, i cannot feel the pain on my face, you do not feel the same way that i feel
yeah, talk about sh-t about us, the f-ck is the deal? that motherf-cker bill
uh, stop the talking sh-t, we boys working hard we stacking the bills
we just want the fun, we don’t give a f-ck, you a hater that we k!ll
jealousy top of the grill, you a b-tch, you’re never the sh-t
[verse2: jc rich]
before you criticize yall mother f-ckers need to visualize
sh-t in my eyes, picture the times
i’m livin’ inside a car, p-ssin’ outside no pot
thats why im spittin the highest bars uh
now give me the full slice of pie
before i pull up just like michael myers yeah
if i don’t make it with this rap i might just k!ll em all
fill up a morgue, drill in their skulls, the sh-t i record, uh
hate these rappers hate producers, crossin’ em out with lead
pockets is all out of bread, so i’m robbin’ now all the feds yeah
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