| Bricks in the fender bender
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| Jump out the Sprinter and jump in the rental
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| They think they with us
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| Dope man with the bricks, nigga, not a pretender
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| Slide up in a Bentley Continental
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| Hood nigga, can’t move without my pistol
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| Hungry, nigga, eat the chicken to the gristle
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| Trap nigga stay sacked like the crystals
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| Can’t help it, I grew up in the slum
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| Everybody strapped up, Vietnam
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| We got the choppers and bombs
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| I answer my door with my gun
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| I grew up by roaches and bums
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| Got a migo on the way with a ton
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| I smoke so much cookies, so pray for my lungs
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| I’m whipping them chickens, I’m breaking my arm
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| They call me Pablo, I be working the water
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| Came from the mud and the dirt and the slum
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| My ministry sack can’t stay in the mall
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| I’m trapping, trying to get the Biggie ball
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| I’m serving the junkies, they going numb
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| Trap house bunking, it be doing dumb
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| Got a 80 my stash in my Avalon
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| I remember serving at the marathon
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| Chicken niggas, serving them at the back of the mall
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| Got too much money, put a stash in the wall
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| Bricks one pound, well, we handing it all
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| Bust it down, wipe the candle with Lysol
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| Pack on me that’ll cut your lights off
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| The coco is the only thing around me soft
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| Got your bitch with my
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| I go stupid dumb like a retard
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| Never had shit, with the bands on each card
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| Bricks in the fender bender
|
| Jump out the Sprinter and jump in the rental
|
| They think they with us
|
| Dope man with the bricks, nigga, not a pretender
|
| Slide up in a Bentley Continental
|
| Hood nigga, can’t move without my pistol
|
| Hungry, nigga, eat the chicken to the gristle
|
| Trap nigga stay sacked like the crystals
|
| Can’t help it, I grew up in the slum
|
| Everybody strapped up, Vietnam
|
| We got the choppers and bombs
|
| I answer my door with my gun
|
| I grew up, I rode to the bond
|
| Got a migo on the way with a ton
|
| I smoke so much cookies, so pray for my lungs
|
| I’m whipping them chickens, I’m breaking my arm
|
| Hood nigga, know I move with the strap
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| I grew up with the bombs and the racks
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| On 1'5 we love cooking crack
|
| Or how about the sprint of your bitch, 'bout to rip her
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| Can’t come to my hood if you’re a pretender
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| I got them bricks in the fender bender, I ain’t no beginner
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| Eat from the slums like the chicken, the gristle
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| Fuck that you say that you miss her
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| Flipping the patties, they talking 'bout crystal
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| With Givenchy, the Balmain
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| Started from nothing in the hood, worked for nic
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| Ice, ice, I whip it up different
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| Snipers on top of the roof of the building
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| Beat it on the block, they say I’ll make a killing
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| MONY POWR RSPT world, if it ain’t, then a nigga kill it
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| Dumping that rack, make your bitch drop the ceiling
|
| I’m rich off them drugs, I’ve been getting it
|
| Bricks in the fender bender
|
| Jump out the Sprinter and jump in the rental
|
| They think they with us
|
| Dope man with the bricks, nigga, not a pretender
|
| Slide up in a Bentley Continental
|
| Hood nigga, can’t move without my pistol
|
| Hungry, nigga, eat the chicken to the gristle
|
| Trap nigga stay sacked like the crystals
|
| Can’t help it, I grew up in the slum
|
| Everybody strapped up, Vietnam
|
| We got the choppers and bombs
|
| I answer my door with my gun
|
| I grew up, I rode to the bond
|
| Got a migo on the way with a ton
|
| I smoke so much cookies, so pray for my lungs
|
| I’m whipping them chickens, I’m breaking my arm |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Winter , by - HoodRich Pablo Juan. Song from the album Hoodwolf, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп