| You losing, we winning
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| I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
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| I ain’t chasing these bitches
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| I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
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| Choppa kick, mortal combat
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| I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
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| I’m at the trap where the bombs at
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| Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at
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| You losing, we winning
|
| I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
|
| I ain’t chasing these bitches
|
| I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
|
| Choppa kick, mortal combat
|
| I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
|
| I’m at the trap where the bombs at
|
| Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at
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| Hundreds, fifties, twenties
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| All I know is get plenty
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| Got this forty on my waist
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| This ain’t no Gucci or a Fendi
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| Bad lil bitch run around like a hemi
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| But I’m still pourin mud and rolling up sticky
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| (Steady rolling up sticky)
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| Hopped up in a foreign, I’m peeling I’m drifting
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| (Hopped up in a foreign, I’m peeling I’m drifting)
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| Find a nigga like me, baby I ain’t too many
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| All of my niggas chase checks
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| You can get wet
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| You play with that, Guap
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| All of my niggas tote that
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| Like rubberbands, you can get popped
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| My young niggas crazy
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| They don’t give a fuck
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| Balling so hard, my team is so clutch
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| We shooting to kill
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| Like Donald boy duck
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| You keep talking down
|
| Ima keep running up
|
| You losing, we winning
|
| I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
|
| I ain’t chasing these bitches
|
| I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
|
| Choppa kick, mortal combat
|
| I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
|
| I’m at the trap where the bombs at
|
| Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at
|
| You losing, we winning
|
| I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
|
| I ain’t chasing these bitches
|
| I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
|
| Choppa kick, mortal combat
|
| I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
|
| I’m at the trap where the bombs at
|
| Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at
|
| I grind it up from a corn sack
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| You smell that loud, That’s that skunk pack
|
| This hundred round drum, Ima dump that
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| And my pockets swole, they be pouring fat
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| Yea my money long as giraffe neck
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| We got them choppas like Baghdad
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| Where is that cash, Gotta have that
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| Homie get ya bitch, before I smash that
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| I hit her then quit her, I don’t give a fuck!
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| (I hit her then quit her, don’t give no fuck!)
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| I’m not from Milwaukee, I’m just bout the bucks
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| (I ain’t from no Milwaukee, bitch all Ima bout them bucks!)
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| These niggas be talking, like they all so tuff
|
| (These niggas be talking, like they all so tuff)
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| Until we pull up, then they face freezing up
|
| (Turn they ass to a ghost)
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| You losing, we winning
|
| I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
|
| I ain’t chasing these bitches
|
| I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
|
| Choppa kick, mortal combat
|
| I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
|
| I’m at the trap where the bombs at
|
| Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at
|
| You losing, we winning
|
| I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
|
| I ain’t chasing these bitches
|
| I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
|
| Choppa kick, mortal combat
|
| I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
|
| I’m at the trap where the bombs at
|
| Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Winning, artist - Key Glock. Album song Glock Season, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп