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 free smurk, big eddie & cam - ytb fatt

[intro]
from the trenches for real, had to put these clothes on a clothes line (trench baby)
my no-limits from the chi’ call me drench (i say fox every time)
you put a b-tton on that glock, make sure the gen a 3 and the glock a 9 (which gon’ shoot the best?)
no lie, that sh-t all facts, i say to gangsters, “it’s time” (in hip-hop)
stood firm every time they shot at me, i took the fed time
n-gga, the city so small, you gon’ get off a pound or get caught out of bounds (i done got my rank up)
they deal me all locations, i pay for it now (through vanish mode)
i gotta chill, i’m poppin’ it
i notice everybody ain’t got it (tss)
gotta ride ’bout the struggle ’cause this lifestyle, everybody can’t buy it
i ride for disciples, crips, bloods, t’s, meeks (i put on for the 5)
tss (we got plenty)
every day i go and get the switch on my ‘gram (you’ll fly too if you link up with frenchie)

[verse]
make them n-ggas respect your name, show the opps you ain’t playin’ no games
show that b-tch you don’t need her, show that ho you can run up a million cash (frrt)
get you some solid n-ggas, make sure they stand firm on your name
i had to learn in these streets that the judge ain’t playin’ no games
gave my n-gga a hundred fifty, be a man about your losses (tss, tss)
every n-gga you see me with, ’bout them, i’ll hit the coffin
i was on that frontline, one day i looked at my k and told myself
n-ggas constantly quittin’ their dreams, but all my dreams made a million dollars
i tried and tried that sh-t (it didn’t work), i tried to pimp a b-tch (got knocked)
i ain’t gon’ lie, only thing i ain’t tryna trim is that lackin’ sh-t (they gon’ blow your ass off)
i wanna do for my city, but i know they’ll b-tch my sh-t
but that ain’t got nothin’ to do with them kids, i still buy school outfits (it’s off the love)
uh, i know that she leave, then these hoes too
when i came across the lethal, the foxes did too (i’m talkin’ ’bout this rap sh-t)
ain’t no more goin’ to parties, ain’t no more love to harvest (need a real one)
when i die, burry her too
when your circle weak, it’s gon’ fail (hoo), i done seen it a hundred times
protect the ticket, protect the image, ’bout him go to jail
if you’ll stay with them n-ggas, you gon’ make your bail (i done seen it a million times)
a tough n-gga get shot, then run and tell
i respect what come with this (foxes love)
i got shot, i took my l!ck
but you can ask around, fatt fox never went for sh-t
i know a couple n-ggas purgin’ and they got rich goin’ on them hits (hoo)
i know a n-gga got bodies, the city found out through a b-tch (he shouldn’t have told ’em)
them n-ggas k!lled my auntie a couple day before i got rich (tss)
wonder where i be from back then to now if i would’ve went on that blitz (hoo)
tired of bein’ in penitentiary, tired of bein’ a f-ckin’ casket
the last n-gga that diss, now he can’t say sh-t (on zai)
i was in my feelings, i don’t give no f-ck
two hundred thousand, bulletproof truck
the sh-t zai told me goin’ to the grave, but before that, prices goin’ up
i got hits like birdman and wayne, fatt fox motivation to this game
i make a grown man wanna get cheese and make a fifteen year old go get your brain
every gun around me c-cked and loaded, go see if dude wired up, “fox, get on it”
i really seen n-ggas rat on their homie, nowadays, n-ggas point the finger at their mama
fatt fox take ’em to the finals, i’m on it
before bagg came, stood firm in that corner
f-ckin’ a thick crip b-tch from compton
half these n-ggas with me fresh out for murder
i still got brothers gettin’ jailed by a jury, i’ll never slip, never huggin’ my jewelry
heard a n-gga talkin’ ’bout takin’ my jewelry, grab my yopper, then i put on my jewelry (all of it)
i ain’t never worried ’bout a n-gga, rich for real, get you k!lled through twitter
i got real smoke in my city, the smoke i’m in, they’ll k!ll my sister
this life i live, put on my back, my n-ggas kids, put on my back (freind)
richest foxx, put on my back, carry all my n-ggas on my back
loaded, p-ssy, can’t go flat, to west memphis that side, i can’t come back
i got the industry watchin’ my city, two hundred racks’ll wipe your whole ‘jects (your projects)
phone call, come and collect (free point), pay dues, i come to collect (pay what you weigh)
i got more streams in the streets than kai cenat
i’m poppin’, for real, the world’ll tell you that
with a rap b-tch i had s-x
i got a real gaffer on my head, still got a bond with n-ggas that sleep on a mat
free all my foxes
tss, free all my foxes

- ytb fatt

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS