Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hella Fresh, artist - Corleone.
Date of issue: 08.02.2017
Song language: English
Hella Fresh |
Yo Prince from the top b You dun know how I do this fucking thing man |
Everybody’s asking wheres Corleone man |
Corleone’s been trapping man |
Corleone’s been on the block |
You get me? |
All these rappers they’re talking smack on the net and hiding |
Alright lets go Pussy what you feel like? |
Follow on some street hype |
I do this shit in real life |
Mac on the speed bike |
I trap and I eat right |
Stacking that p right |
Crack and the b’s right |
Been doing this since knee high |
Hella fresh, so fly |
Never stress, so high |
Nigga yes, no lie |
This niggas death, don’t cry |
The dinner stretch, four five |
Thirty six, four nines |
Been rapping since 96 |
I bodied him in four lines |
Please, don’t compare to these |
Still on the roads, and I really don’t give a fuck |
Still on my toes, rolling with the nina tucked (10 toes) |
Out in the cold trying to get this nigga popped |
Black lives matter till that black nine splatters |
How you trap line rappers |
But you no trappers |
So you lying motherfuckers |
And your rhymes don’t match |
Got me crying motherfuckers |
Hope you die so bad |
Trapping all year, no rapping this year |
My guns gone cold, no clapping this year |
They’re doing ten toes, that’s a fashion this year |
I’m doing ten hoes, yeah I’m mashing these squares (Kilo) |
Co this, Co that |
Co switched, no brah |
Co’s shit, so whack |
Co switched his flow brah |
Co’s broke, no brah |
Co gets doe brah |
What I got to show stacks to please all these road cats |
Flashing my whip |
Whack on my hip |
Back on the strip |
Bitches back on my dick |
Co’s back on his shit |
Trapping to bits |
Wrapping them bricks |
Young bucks slapping in bits |
No slacking or slip (Never) |
I’m not a punch line rapper |
I’m a crunch time cracker |
A front line trappers on the cunch line trapping |
Done time slacking on the cunch line lacking |
All suede suit, blue suede in the coupe |
All suede boots and my sprayers in the boot |
I’m rolling with bob, no caine in the (Castro) |
Spitting mad bars, now they’re saying its a fluke |
They’re always chatting some shit |
Till they get their mom hit |
, I just dump it Cock it back and bump it Them niggas, they’re just fronting |
They ain’t really done things |
All my niggas on things |
Yeah we really run things (GB) |
GB fell off, prick GB sell arff |
That OG fell off, I’ll blow his head off |
Eggie’s with a chick, eating chicken and jollof |
Beretta on my hip, got the bricks of kellogs (Ricky Lakey) |
Tit for tat, |
Free my niggas in the jail cells, Biz and Snap (Biz) |
I’ll ping a nigga over, you think its rap? |
Listen |
I brought life to this rap game |
These niggas lie and they acting |
I’ll get my nine and I’ll clap him |
He won’t survive with the mac 10 |
That nigga snitched and he’s bad now |
Look at my wrist, I just brag loud |
Look at my bitch she’s a bad brown |
All of my clique we were swagged out (GB) |
Look at my whip I just flashed out |
I’m getting bricks from the flat now |
I’ll give you tips on the trap, how? |
(Yeah mate) |
Look at my kicks thats a bag down |
Don’t you ever talk that smack (Never) |
Your not bad bro your a prat (Your a mug) |
GB logo in my cap (GB) |
I run my own shit, I’m !! |
(Corleone) |