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letra de on hots - yus gz

on hots lyrics
[intro]
(yoshi)
grrah, like
grrah (grrah)
every opp shot
(yozora)
like, grrah
everything dead
grrah, like
every opp shot, like
grrah, like
everything k (smokin’ all deads)
grrah, grrah
doak (new opp)
grrah, grrah
smokin’ all deads (everybody shot)
grrah, grrah (bow, bow)

[chorus]
grrah, grrah
spin through the sevv and i ain’t tryna box
tryna what? these ain’t regular shots
they be like, “yus, koo”, b-tch, i’m on hots
like okay, b-tches settin’ the drop
.357, been poppin’ a lot
h-hop out gang, bet he died with his chop
b-tch we them ‘ooters, all we do is pop
like free flock, get him shot
send a kite, roll that boy in his spot
boy in pc talkin’ silly with no knock
with the deuce i go ku, i be itchin’ to flock
ap, my muddy, for him do a lot
brodie gon’ pour up muddy, movin’ wock
choppin’ ‘еm, pop out at dawn, we gon’ pop
bro up the glock tryna knock off a top
[verse]
like oh hе dead, like he in bed
when i’m with [?] all i see is dread
on pursuit, when i up it, they fled
the d’s on my bop, i’ll still shoot off the peg
head-tap gang, keep one in the head
been through that block and all i see is red
like i’m a demon, i said what i said
like free flock, time to put him to bed
spin through the mix, like on the [?]
got the glock with a d-ck, put the beam on his head
[?] demon, [?] stay off the meds
brother don’t box, we put one in your head
he with his b-tch, when i up it, they fled
bro in the whip, with the knock on his leg
chop go, “grrah”, hit the back of the leg
nazzy, crippy, james, dead
and forget that jb, should’ve fled
move low, got hit in his head
it’s a new opp in the air, roll this dead
mezzy, blay, frank, dead
ain’t no stoppin’ this sh-t
i know brodie gon’ flock
and we droppin’ his b-tch
like, i heard they watchin’ his sh-t
knocks in the car, don’t stop, keep flockin’ that b-tch
like, get on that boy and i clip
i got ptsd, who that in that whip?
beam on that bl!ck, and it came with a switch
like, bet i’m gon’ do him like rip
better not run, don’t run, don’t trip
got a beam on that bl!ck, i’ma send him a tip
f-ck that, pop out at dark and i blitz
like, b-tch when i boom, better dip (bow bow bow)
[chorus]
grrah, grrah
spin through the sevv and i ain’t tryna box
tryna what? these ain’t regular shots
they be like, “yus, cool”, b-tch, i’m on hots
like okay, b-tches settin’ the drop
.357, been poppin’ a lot
h-hop out gang, bet he died with his chop
b-tch we them ‘ooters, all we do is pop
like free flock, get him shot
send a kite, roll that boy in his spot
boy in pc talkin’ silly with no knock
with the deuce i go ku, i be itchin’ to flock
ap, my muddy, for him do a lot
brodie gon’ pour up muddy, movin’ wock
choppin’ ’em, pop out at dawn, we gon’ pop
bro up the glock tryna knock off a top

- yus gz

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