Lyrics PARIS - 83HADES

PARIS

I don’t no take Ls, I two to my face
Please have a seat, s’il vous plaît
I pull out the pistol, put two in his face
He jumping in yours, no, I can’t catch no case
And I’m pulling right up and I’m all with the gang
And your girl is a slut and she coming my way
I ain’t get to say bye, he surrounded by tape
And I’d just rather die than be cool with the jakes
How are you cool with these muh’fuckin fakes?
I’m allergic (achoo) I can’t hang around lames
Real diamonds all over my chain
I got it from the trap and I
baby, I’d rather die
Bitches be fake like the cars with the pesticide
The day you can kill me the day that I testify
Boss myself up, my whole life just got gentrified
So disappointed I’m feeling like Harden
I don’t fuck with a soul if I’m just being honest
I think I’ve had enough, mix the coke with my chronic
Pull up and take it like shawty she cummin'
I’d rather stay low and just count all my hundreds
like a defensive weapon
I pray every time that I see him, I’m sorry
And I’m in the back of the car fucking crying
I call myself out, «How are you?
I am dying»
It’s me, 83, who the fuck is you?
We be the ones who be toting the twos
I like it when lil' shawty hit all the moves
Get a lil' bitch, she do a dance on my tool
Pull out automatic and I let it rip, if you take me for a fool
You throwing up gang signs and taking these drugs, huh, just 'cause you think
it is cool
I pull out the choppa and set up the table just to set the mood
You think that he until he making the news
All these motherfuckers fake
All that they do is a ruse
I don’t no take Ls, I two to my face
Please have a seat, s’il vous plaît
I pull out the pistol, put two in his face
He jumping in yours, no, I can’t catch no case
And I’m pulling right up and I’m all with the gang
And your girl is a slut and she coming my way
I ain’t get to say bye, he surrounded by tape
And I’d just rather die than be cool with the jakes
How are you cool with these muh’fuckin fakes?
I’m allergic (achoo) I can’t hang around lames
Real diamonds all over my chain
I got it from the trap and I
baby, I’d rather die
Bitches be fake like the cars with the pesticide
The day you can kill me the day that I testify
Boss myself up, my whole life just got gentrified
So disappointed I’m feeling like Harden
I don’t fuck with a soul if I’m just being honest
I think I’ve had enough, mix the coke with my chronic
Pull up and take it like shawty she cummin'
I’d rather stay low and just count all my hundreds
like a defensive weapon
I pray every time that I see him, I’m sorry
And I’m in the back of the car fucking crying
I call myself out, «How are you?
I am dying»
It’s me, 83, who the fuck is you?
We be the ones who be toting the twos
I like it when lil' shawty hit all the moves
Get a lil' bitch, she do a dance on my tool
Pull out automatic and I let it rip, if you take me for a fool
You throwing up gang signs and taking these drugs, huh, just 'cause you think
it is cool
I pull out the choppa and set up the table just to set the mood
You think that he until he making the news
All these motherfuckers fake
All that they do is a ruse