| You might know me from the, dirt
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| Lil' boy that used to walk the streets
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| Now I don’t say much because talk is cheap
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| Rifle get to stuttering, it’s on repeat
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| Fuckin' round I got a DUI, for weed
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| Yoom — That’s the sound of the plane taking off
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| Foe 'nem can’t wait till them chains taken off
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| You can’t be lunch meat
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| We drop them 40's, like we from the country
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| Bang, Bang
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| Belt cost eight hundred ayy, forty under it ayy
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| Bitches chase me down aye, trynna play it ayy
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| You can blow my candle ayy, Imma stay lit ayy
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| She say I trynna play her, she feel like Rey bitch ay
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| I woke up this morning ayy, feeling really rich ayy
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| Everything real ayy, these even the real kicks ayy
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| Real neck, real wrist
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| Since I’m a real nigga Imma need a real bitch ayy, OK
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| Bitch I paid a thousand for my denim
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| Been toting on a couple of some handguns
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| Bitch I’m feeling like the human Google, I got answers
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| Cutting all my bitches off, I’m just looking for scissors, ayy
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| That’s the sound of my bitches crying when I break up with them
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| These niggas baloney, phoney and I can’t fuck with them
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| All these baby bottles, but we’re not babysitters, ayy
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| You might know me from the, dirt
|
| Lil' boy that used to walk the streets
|
| Now I don’t say much because talk is cheap
|
| Rifle get to stuttering, it’s on repeat
|
| Fuckin' round I got a DUI, for weed
|
| Yoom — That’s the sound of the plane taking off
|
| Foe 'nem can’t wait till them chains taken off
|
| You can’t be lunch meat
|
| We drop them 40's, like we from the country
|
| Bang, Bang
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| Ball
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| You know I’m in Neiman Marcus
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| Valet got my Demon, parked it
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| Racks hanging out my cargo’s (Racks, racks)
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| I bank with Wells Fargo (Facts)
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| In the trap just like El Chapo
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| She want to be my Griselda Blanco (Griselda)
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| She like «you sound like a country boy» (Haha)
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| «But you from the city boy» (Chiraq)
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| She a little saddity boy (thot)
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| But her face is real pretty boy (Pretty girl)
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| And her waist is lil' bitty boy
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| Duffle bag full of cash, no Tity Boi (All cash)
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| We good in every city boy (GBE for ever)
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| Back to back, no Hemi’s boy (Skrr, skrr)
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| You can hear them Hellcats racing through the city boy
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| You might know me from the, dirt
|
| Lil' boy that used to walk the streets
|
| Now I don’t say much because talk is cheap
|
| Rifle get to stuttering, it’s on repeat
|
| Fuckin' round I got a DUI, for weed
|
| Yoom — That’s the sound of the plane taking off
|
| Foe 'nem can’t wait till them chains taken off
|
| You can’t be lunch meat
|
| We drop them 40's, like we from the country
|
| Bang, Bang |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Country , by - Ballout. Song from the album T.I., in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп