Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sleep for Dinner, artist - Cherp
Date of issue: 26.04.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sleep for Dinner |
What up, Fresh? |
Yeah |
It’s Cherp, nigga! |
Who else? |
Got love for the victim but respect the shooter |
You should stay up outta traffic if you can’t maneuver |
Dude started out clappin' now they the users |
Schooled by them O-Gs, now I’m the tutor |
I ain’t no wrestler so when I got a grip to slam you, closed casket so nobody |
else can look at 'em |
Forty in my handbrush, nigga, I’m a fuckin' menance |
So keep actin' bad and get your seed ended |
No yellow tape just move with caution |
Like a kick to the stomach, Stunnin', I’m Steve Austin |
Don’t get it twisted like you do contortion |
I’m in the newest Porches |
Backpack should be signed to Ronkers |
Played them corners from Carolina to V-C, scorin' |
Get your shit shut down, nigga, I’m Josh Norman |
Break you down to a fraction, it’s mathmatic |
Pay me or late sleep, nigga, I’m Craftmatic |
I ain’t worried 'bout who frontin', nigga, it’s the backstabbers |
So break bread or get your shit sandwiched, nigga |
Br-br-break bread or get your shit sandwiched (yeah), nigga |
If you never had sleep for dinner (right), I don’t feel you-I don’t feel you |
(Nigga, I don’t feel you) |
Hey, yo, Cherp, tell them niggas up top, I know I’m ready |
If you never had a nap or snack, I might kill you-I might kill you |
Huh? |
Okay, clear it out though (Nigga, I might kill you) |
It’s goin' down! |
Hand full of hallows |
I’m dancin' with the desert like walkin' with Sandman at the Apollo |
They could shot at a cow but as far as I know, I missed my shooter like Dwight |
Howard with the follow |
Told Spark and hit a flatline like new whips in close parkin', I’m in the post, |
pardon |
Now your girl stressed 'caues of her baby like postpartum |
He Kylie Jenner soft, why think that I won’t rob 'em? |
I hit Cherp on the chirp |
Still use the Nextel to move the work |
For the record, the we gotta work merc |
The prosecutors, they called it the red alert |
We grind it to the gristle |
Music is secondary, that’s why we rhymin' with a pistol |
Had stress for lunch, sleep for dinner |
You in the streets with a winner |
Godson |
If you never had sleep for dinner, I don’t feel you-I don’t feel you (nigga, |
I don’t feel you) |
If you never had a nap or snack, I might kill you-I might kill you (Nigga, |
I might kill you) |
(Nigga, I might kill you) |