Lyrics RRR - K-Trap, Youngs Teflon, doroad

RRR

Barbeque settings and we don’t need coal
Countin' the wettins, I’m lookin' like Rose (Rose)
Had to do it like all of the bros
But if it’s like «Peewee, you gotta get close» (Yuck)
It’s th main roads, so if I go, it’s lookin' like soch' (Ah)
Taped up shh, that was way back then
W was doin' it bait back then
With a shotgun, pump and trey back then
Ay, done it like a parking warden
Ping that windshield, fuck that finance
(Woi-woi-woi)
You wan' send man coin 'cah they done it on binance
My young apes got brolic in jail
Was in class with shottys and nails
(Now what you sayin)
But the MAC 10's suttin' like Sonic and Tails
Hs swing round for the one time D
I ain’t even gotta tell 'em I’m horny
Mum found man’s knives way too many times
I ain’t even gotta tell her it’s warry
Shout my brudda Capone
Niggas on the run eatin', that’s Nore
I’m with K or K, salt bae man to the bone, it’s salty
Would’ve thought that I send man shop
For the sweets, way the 4−5 corn to send man
(Bah-bah-bah-bah)
Left man covered in blood like Tempman
We let them man stunt when we M man
I just high-five bro and the skengman
I know trench babies from the trenches
In a black trenchcoat tryna drench man
They say all I do is talk about the dot-dot
We got it lock stock colours and what not
Could have never try get him done with a one pop
I don’t have a one shot, never been a one pop
Two hands on the ting, I’m steady like Headie
I’ll kill my friend if he snitched like Melly
I’ll bill my spliff then go to beddy
I’ll be chuffed next morning if I see him on telly
Remember that time when I beat two corn
On a opp on his block, nah I bet you weren’t ready
Remember the time when my youngin' had a madness
I gave him the shank and his hands turned jelly
Have you ever heard an M10 on repeat
Just beatin' and beatin' and beatin' and beatin'
Have you ever cheffed man point blank
Civillians screaming «he's bleeding», «he's bleeding» (he's bleeding)
No I don’t think you fucking did
Goddy beat that ting wid a rusty pin
I was up close live, when I clutched on him
I ain’t seen another nigga on a rucksack ting like me
Corn licking off on the mains I speed
Face shot now his mum can’t ID
Matter fact don’t mind me (ay don’t mind, ay ay)