| DJ on the beat so it’s a banger
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| Von
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| Pull up and get him
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| That bullet ripped through his tissue and pulled out his gristle
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| It was the nickel, and it’s a Glock
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| And that bitch sound like a missile
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| He know I’m official
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| Doin' all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I’ma get you
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| And when nobody with him
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| I wore a nine, the shoes, ain’t nobody fit 'em
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| I popped a Perky and thirty
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| I’m havin' a bitch, boy, ain’t nobody perfect
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| If I take a L, I’m back on that corner
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| I’m hustlin', ain’t nobody servin'
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| Get booked 'cause somebody workin'
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| He told, I know that for certain
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| Get caught, I’m closin' his curtains
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| We scored another conversion
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| Designer, Givenchy
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| All of this ice on my wrist and it feel like it’s Christmas
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| Speakin' of Christmas, come get your ho
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| I be climbin' all up in her chimney
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| We seein' the ho if she friendly
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| Ain’t see him, he goin', he missin'
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| Won’t see me in the back of a Bentley
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| Hop out and I’m blowin', it’s rented
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| Woke up, ain’t doin' no drive-bys
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| Your MVP bitch, that bitch my sideline
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| Just a wild lil' nigga from the South side
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| Nigga killed your homie, you ain’t even come outside
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| I fucked your bitch on purpose
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| Them bros come in, we workin'
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| My song come on, she twerkin'
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| All the opps be broke, they hurtin'
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| My niggas, they too official
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| Send a text, they get right with you
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| Y’all was somewhere playin' Monkey in the Middle
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| We was tryna pull 'em for some guns when I was little
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| If we still allowed, we gon' meet 'em and then split 'em
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| On the jail call, gotta talk in the riddle
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| Ho said she love me, she gon' tap my initials
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| Nigga move foul, get to blowin' like a whistle
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| Fuck that, let’s talk about Louis, Amiri, and Gucci and Prada and shit
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| When I go to the store, they closin' the door and bringin' me bottles and shit
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| Fuck that, let’s talk about that lil' one-fifty I spent with my lawyer and shit
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| My gun don’t punch, it kick
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| Get with this shit or get hit in your shit
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| Pull up and get him
|
| That bullet ripped through his tissue and pulled out his gristle
|
| It was the nickel, and it’s a Glock
|
| And that bitch sound like a missile
|
| He know I’m official
|
| Doin' all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I’ma get you
|
| And when nobody with him
|
| I wore a nine, the shoes, ain’t nobody fit 'em
|
| Woke up, ain’t doin' no drive-bys
|
| Your MVP bitch, that bitch my sideline
|
| Just a wild lil' nigga from the South side
|
| Nigga killed your homie, you ain’t even come outside
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| I fucked your bitch on purpose
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| Them bros come in, we workin'
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| My song come on, she twerkin'
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| All the opps be broke, they hurtin' |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Broke Opps, artist - King Von. Album song Levon James, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп