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letra de lyrical exercise - yhung t.o.

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first things first b-tch i’m he
feeling like pop butch i ball above the rim
thirty in that glock knock a n-gga off a limb
this an automatic chop n-gga this is not a sem-i
everywhere we go b-tch we deep
all black hemi with designer on my feet
and b-tch i need it back cause my time ain’t free
and i just put an s and a r in the t
n-gga who the f-ck is you cause you n-ggas ain’t me
she only got coo if it really ain’t cream
and n-gga what you pourin’ if it really ain’t lean
twenty bands in my joggers cause these really ain’t jean
all a night wanna know what they here fo’
diamonds dancin’ on my neck like disco
catch a n-gga out of bounds let that clip go
baby i just want that throat let yo’ lips know
h-lla blues on me but i ain’t a crip tho
she just left for me, thought this was your b-tch tho
i just p-ss her to the bro then i dip tho
six bands in the motherf-ckin’ fit tho
f’n on my motherf-ckin’ hit tho
channel on the motherf-ckin drip tho
you ain’t talking ‘bout a bag get you [?]
in a win in that benz b-tch i been gone
before i argue with a n-gga i’ma catch one
now your used to be homie is a dead one
n-gga i’ma hit the fence if the feds come
n-gga broke and dis and they ain’t say nothin’
and b-tch i’m from the v that’s where i’ve been from
n-gga sayin’ they a boy but i’ve been one
i just hop up in a booth then the trends come
why you actin’ like a b-tch n-gga man up
how you grown and you broke get your bands up
police still k!llin’ n-ggas with they hands up
just my motherf-ckin’ self what i’m a fan of
f-ck the police cause the v tryna ban us
mr. [?] save a ho, he a dumb ho
i’m from the north but my n-gga slimmy [?]
she let me hit it from the back with no glove on
i can drop ten bands get your man gone
and first things first b-tch i’m he
feeling like pop cause i ball above the rim
vvs on my mouth on my motherf-ckin’ green
and i hope you gotta friend for my mof-ckin’ friend
they like t. o. where you motherf-ckin’ been
sliding outta ops to make motherf-ckin’ sense
runnin’ up these bands for the motherf-ckin’ tent
n-gga say i ain’t the g.o.a.t got me motherf-ckin’ bent onna gang

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