| Brr, ayo
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| Flygod
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| Ayo, hangin' out the Royce with the Russian (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot,
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| doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
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| Everybody duckin', only five niggas got hit, fuck it (Ah)
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| Halos over Palm Angels, watch for Lucifer (Ah)
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| I had the beam on the Draco, lunchin' (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot,
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| doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
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| Dumpin', I threw the barrel at your pumpkin (Brr)
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| Puffin' gelati, chillin', givin' game to my youngin'
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| I told him that this shit don’t come, that you gotta want it
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| And have that money back on time to me if I front it, ah (Let's go)
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| I pull that gun up, you slippin', you better run it
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| Shells, those feel like oatmeal, they sit in your stomach (Ah)
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| I came home and let back niggas biddin' them numbers (Free my niggas)
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| I’m thinkin' 'bout which block that I’m killin' this summer
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| Ayo, Dior rockin', three fifty-seven to your throat popper (Boom, boom, boom,
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| boom, boom)
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| He had to lay low, the streets watchin'
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| Two different color duct tapes, I bet the shit got cut
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| My shit swimmin', made two to five now we winnin'
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| Catch me on the yard, creased up, waves spinnin'
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| C.O. |
| knockin' at my cell, price on the linen
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| Look, you know the wheels got the big Bs (Uh huh)
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| The wrist freeze, diamonds dancin' like Chris Breeze (Hahaha)
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| 3500 my sneakers, you can’t get these
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| After I nut, I made the bitch leave (Get out, bitch)
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| You know my wrist mean (Wrist mean), I double up if the brick clean (Let's go)
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| But now I get that for a sixteen
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| Ah, and I spend it like this dope from lotto
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| SIG throwin' hollows, the bullets big as a Corona bottle (Brr)
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| It cost twenty bands for a convo
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| My niggas all capos, last time I cooked up, I wore a poncho (Ah)
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| Pullin' up on your broad, pronto (What's poppin'?)
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| I fucked her once, she hit me the next day but the call blocked, though
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| Ayo, all my jewels on, I’m in the two seater with the roof gone (Skrrt)
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| Bushmaster with the Raf straps, knock your shoes off (Doot, doot, doot, doot,
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| doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
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| Air hole TEC blew off, no screw off
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| Headshot up close, his Just Don blew off (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom,
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| boom, boom)
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| I pull the coupe off with two bitches in my new loft (Vroom)
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| Diamond tennis chains, VVSs, and a new cross
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| Bring your biggest gun, nigga, we can have a shoot-off (Ha)
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| Only hit three niggas, but, shit, I knocked two off (Brr)
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| We the upper echelon of the hard rappers (Ha)
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| The most sought-after, bar after bar after bar after
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| Bar, we raw like soft of the traffic
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| Nigga got out of pocket and my dawg clapped him (Ah, boom, boom, boom)
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| We the hardest 'til I’m laid in a coffin (Ah)
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| I never trade on the squadron
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| Came with a forklift, ah, we made niggas bosses
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| Doin' it from the stage to the faucet
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| They know we the hardest, I hit valet and they parked it, uh (Uh huh)
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| They want the wave like a dolphin
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| What gangster is you talkin'? |
| We don’t play, we on offense
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| Stick you and throw your chains in the garbage
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| They know we the hardest (Let's go), use your brain before they torch it
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| Lock and load, and aim for the target
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| My niggas the hardest (Let's go) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chef Dreds, artist - Griselda. Album song WWCD, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп