Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Suburban, Pt. 2, artist - 22gz. Date of issue: 28.05.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Suburban, Pt. 2 |
| Hoodie on, mask on, strap drawn |
| Tryna run, he didn’t get that far |
| If his bro tryna spin dat block then gang gon' switch that car |
| Kill a opp, broad day, get blasted |
| Lawyer gon' spank that charge |
| Hanging out, all black Suburbans, blicky gon' hit that target |
| Hoodie on, mask on, strap drawn |
| Tryna run, he didn’t get that far |
| If his bro tryna spin dat block then gang gon' switch that car |
| Kill a opp, broad day, get blasted |
| Lawyer gon' spank that charge |
| Hanging out, all black Suburbans, blicky gon' hit that target |
| Whole lot of shots knock his face off it |
| Dude will hang out the roof of a Draco |
| Back from the Ms and the case closed |
| Blood on my kicks, that from stomping his face off |
| Chop off a limb with a chainsaw |
| No cap, I’m in the booth with a bankroll |
| Stuffing the clip, a whole trey-o |
| He ain’t gon' shoot, why the fuck is he gang fold? |
| Run up on Fetty, cap Fetty, that’s Fetty |
| Count hella bands, wouldn’t chase that zelly |
| Henny on Henny on Henny on Henny |
| Gang in the spot, get deady on deady |
| Busting a .40, spit on your shorty, don’t do Bacardi |
| Bust a piñata, open ya mata, shoot up the party |
| Fuck it, we loud, jet the head, get beat up like Marley |
| If I’m on the East, then I’m in the fields so I’m up and gone |
| 30 clips, that mean hella bodies |
| Spin your hood and kill anybody |
| If he missing the medics got him |
| He ain’t dead but we paralysed him |
| Hoodie on, mask on, strap drawn |
| Tryna run, he didn’t get that far |
| If his bro tryna spin dat block then gang gon' switch that car |
| Kill a opp, broad day, get blasted |
| Lawyer gon' spank that charge |
| Hanging out, all black Suburbans, blicky gon' hit that target |
| Getting money off the zelly, in and out her like a deli |
| Free that nigga Skrelly, put a bullet in his belly |
| B and B, so fuck a telly, fucking up a shot |
| We don’t do the jumping, shotgun start the pumping |
| See him slipping, I’m a dump it |
| Kill a nigga then we dump 'em |
| Throw his body in a dumpster |
| Spin through like, ay |
| He moving or walk, he get shot in the face |
| I heard they dropping the rates |
| Well we got the addy and we on the way |
| Swerving, lurking, slip then murk 'em |
| Purge with burners, it’s a murder |
| Hearse him, put him in the dirt |
| They got his face prints on a shirt |
| Hop out, strap drawn, head tap |
| Tryna run, he ain’t get that far |
| Spin through, two shooters, one driver |
| We gon' kill that boy |
| We gon' bend that block, we gon' |
| You gon' hear that noise |
| All we know is dead opps, no attempts at leg shots |
| Hit him in his head top |
| Hoodie on, mask on, strap drawn |
| Tryna run, he didn’t get that far |
| If his bro tryna spin dat block then gang gon' switch that car |
| Kill a opp, broad day, get blasted |
| Lawyer gon' spank that charge |
| Hanging out, all black suburban, blicky gon' hit that target |
| Hoodie on, mask on, strap drawn |
| Tryna run, he didn’t get that far |
| If his bro tryna spin dat block then gang gon' switch that car |
| Kill a opp, broad day, get blasted |
| Lawyer gon' spank that charge |
| Hanging out, all black suburban, blicky gon' hit that target |