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letra de jeter - tycho cassini

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i’m cleaning house like some ch-r-s,, ask me for war, pop on the ‘flage like a veteran
wear camouflage like a veteran
they wear the l like a letterman

grinding i’m grinding, i vow i will never retire from late nights like letterman
nicknaaaamed me cul-de-sac because i
catch em in dead ends then box their -ss in like some entenmann’s

look at the buzz that the white boy be catching, catching them numbers like julian edelman (woo)
started the hustle in summer 10
most yall kids was in summer camp

i am too high up on all y’all gonna need you a bigger ramp
was that over your heads
are we playing monkey in middle man

i’m going dark on you b-tches
turned back the clock on you b-tches
crashed then bounced back
went we are marshall on you b-tches

purple heart bars for you b-tches
i’ll go to war with you b-tches
leaving em all dead inside, install a coffin within em

bridge

chorus oh oh oh

i hit em close range like a finger roll, easy lay (oh boy)
stack my chips like lay’s or frito lay
raised in the jungle head lay where cheetahs lay
i stay
above number 2 where the last name jeter stay

excuse my french but mu f-cka s’il vous plait (mu f-cka please!)
i’m ballin yall not, like we playing keep away
rhyme til out of breath blue like skeeter face
don’t make me go and pull the piece out ‘al vee der zane

shooting the sh-t
i’m too clutch in the end
like augustus gloop up in the chute
ain’t no room for you up in this b-tch
my hard drive now got me uber rich
i’m sick as news that the tumors spread

i used to say that i’d k!ll for some nikes
til i realize that i do it best
skin be the color of 2 percent
milk, but the furthest from spoiled and i mean that sh-t in the truest sense

tasting the fame, yet, i remain hungry as budapest
friends from back home tell me you the t-ts like hooters b-tches who serving me chicken and beer to refuel me cuz
this life that i’m living gets ludacris
who is this? (1)

tycho

i turn
l’s to a typo
i go
chung-li and ryu
quick to turn streets to a game of street fighter, my god

this is the type of sh-t i’m on
this what i spent every night on
ever since i was a kid sneaking flashlights and pens in to write when my momma said lights out

now watch as i drive on, the road to the riches with brights on
literally out of sight so
you cannot tell where lil tych gon’

chorus

i hit em close range like a finger roll, easy lay
stack my chips like lay’s or frito lay
raised in the jungle head lay where, cheetahs lay
i stay
above number 2 where the last name jeter stay

excuse my french but mu f-cka s’il vous plait (mu f-cka please!)
i’m ballin yall not, like we play keep away
rhyme til out of breath blue like skeeter face
don’t make me go and pull the piece out ‘al vee der zane

x2

- tycho cassini

letras aleatórias

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