Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song HPNGC, artist - Injury Reserve. Date of issue: 04.09.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
HPNGC |
| Shh, Shh, Shh |
| I don’t wanna hear a peep, nigga |
| Shh, Shh, Shh |
| Shut the fuck up, nigga |
| I don’t wanna hear a peep, nigga |
| Creep niggas |
| Border collie for the sheep niggas |
| Flee nigga |
| Ain’t shit sweet nigga |
| They four deep nigga |
| Shh, don’t wanna hear a peep nigga |
| Shh, fuck nigga sleep nigga |
| Dweeb nigga |
| Hello |
| Speak nigga |
| They tryna eat nigga |
| Trick or treat nigga |
| Ah |
| Please nigga |
| Boom boom boom |
| Dawg |
| Dirt cheap nigga |
| Here get ya beauty sleep nigga |
| Nigga thats on GP nigga |
| OohWee nigga |
| Fall asleep niggas |
| Pour one out for these niggas |
| Oh my niggas these nigga |
| Buy me a gun |
| And do it for fun |
| Probably more Martin than Malcolm |
| When it comes to the funds |
| In the club |
| With the Huey P. Newton Gun Club |
| Nigga |
| And these rap niggas need bullets (facts, facts nigga) |
| It’s Mr. twitter fingers (yeah) |
| A.K.A Ms./Miss his trigger fingers |
| Bitch I feel nothing |
| 'specially from no bitch nigga |
| I’m like a old white woman |
| Niggas make me nervous |
| Bitch I’m a black Beatle |
| I can’t keep Insta-lurking (huh) |
| I been watching and wishing |
| Blicky stashed in the kitchen |
| I’m too big for my britches |
| I’m too rich for these bitches |
| I feel like DJ Vlad but bitch I’m never snitching |
| I keep lying to myself cause I just wanna kick it |
| I get my Kenan Ivory on and find out how you’re living |
| You niggas pussy rather beat your meat then stick the clip in |
| I take my time you always russian, whats you niggas mission |
| I feel like Putin, go against me you 'gone end up missin' |
| Sometimes i wonder how these fake thugs keep winnin' |
| I can’t keep praying to these crackas I ain’t fuckin wit th- |
| Bruh |
| I’m at ya car |
| I’m at ya job |
| I’m at ya crib |
| I’m at ya house |
| I got the M4 in ya spouse |
| I got the SK on the couch |
| Empty the clip |
| I’m tryna' hit |
| Shoot in the air |
| You sound like a bitch |
| All on the gram you sound like a snitch |
| Tell me just how you gon' kill me |
| I feel like Posh Spice |
| I feel like Robin Givens |
| Pick Honda’s over Benz' |
| Leave some guap for my chillren |
| Take a shot for the villains |
| Load a shot for the killin' |
| Sand paper Peggy |
| Decorate that glass ceiling yea! |
| These niggas |
| My chillren |
| Fuck bloggers |
| Fuck feelings |
| No filler |
| This nasty |
| Kimber baby |
| My brother |
| Who copped a shotgun |
| From Big 5 |
| You couldn’t tell 'em shit man |
| We thought that we were big time |
| Had me walking wit my chest out |
| Like that shits mine |
| Even copped a little polish nigga so that shit shines |
| I was about a buck fifty |
| Five nah |
| Nas made me 5'10 |
| His finger itchin' |
| Niggas thought |
| That we was wit the shits |
| But he was never 'fraid |
| Still down to throw the fade |
| My little buddy in the back would make you walk away |
| Ridin' round strapped wit the thumper in the back |
| First time in awhile |
| Ain’t Have it on his lap |
| We were mobbin' through Berkeley like where the function at |
| Seen em boys ride past and of course they circled back |
| Only one niggas seen they life flash when they flashed |
| If they search the car we all know its a wrap |
| It didn’t really help that we were drunk as fuck |
| Good thing they didn’t go and pop the trunk |
| Nigga |