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letra de mary's lambo - wynne (rapper) & christo

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[intro]

(that is not dangerous)
this sh-t for my big bros
i’m back in the city, ayy (its child’s play)
might link up with christo
he burn like a cd blank
“he say you got high, wynnie?”
no i never smoke, ayy
no games if i’m being blunt
that’s what i call roll play
(christo)

[verse 1]
this is the director’s cut
punchlines ikea i set ’em up
makin’ moves like the rent went up
do not blink when you mention us (roadrunner)
all of ’em wiley coyote, i know you do not want any dust (in your face)
we handin’ out masks at the start ’cause we know that you’re not keepin’ up
(wynnie tough) i do not keep it a buck, i only keep it a mil’
how does it feel? d’angelo, chalk on the floor
voodoo, they not on my heels
not on my stilettos, not on my forces, not on my achilles, greek like giannis
i am amusеd, you think you just like me, they croak on arrival, go back whеre the pond is
you in the back with the horses, i’m in the front of the line where the view is so gorgeous
look at the forest, punches are leavin’ their tooth blue, that’s why my mic cordless
don’t need a chorus, keep it on sight like the sources
you can’t see me, no warrant
turn ’em red like mr. forman
chew ’em up, spit ’em out, clean it up with orbit
[chorus]
mary had a little lamborghini, now we’re leaving
so just tell ’em they can ring me ’cause we’re over it, over it, over and out
over it, over it, over and out
over it, over it, over and out
over it, over it, over and out
over it? over and out

[verse 2]
who ya gonna call, i’m ghost, i go
only talk green like no iphone (s-x)
gimme that rock that’s no typo
need a cut of that paper like roshambo (i do)
i don’t keep score, then what are they callin’ on me for?
made it to the top but your knees sore
the stories they don’t tell on freeform (jeez, lord)
i don’t need a reason, dislocation from the reaches
put ’em in a sling, i think they need it
they can’t keep up ’cause i don’t need the weekend
need hoodie in the booth, it’s freezin’
tires workin’ in all the seasons
i’m mad at all of them for sleepin’
that’s what i call tempur-pedic
let the beat rest in peace, give me my check then leave
i said that i’m sick of these fleas
how come they buggin’ my dogs, they better go get that leash then leave
that’s it, i’m saying my piece, why’s your man followin’ me?
locked the game up and swallowed my keys, say cheese
picture this face ‘fore it’s taking the lead, like
[chorus]
mary had a little lamborghini, now we’re leaving
so just tell ’em they can ring me ’cause we’re over it, over it, over and out
over it, over it, over and out
over it, over it, over and out
over it, over it, over and out
over it? over and out

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