Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Suffer, artist - LUD FOE. Date of issue: 31.12.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Suffer |
| Kid Wond3r, you made this beat? |
| Gang, aye |
| Out west 290 shit, you know how I’m rockin', nigga |
| Get your guns up, get your funds up |
| You on that opp shit, get mob sticked, bitch |
| I hit the mall, Gucci, Louis, Fendi, I just buy it all |
| Shout out to my shooter, he retarded, he ain’t got it all |
| Must be drunk, bet you had you too much of that alcohol |
| John Wall, bitch I shoot, but I don’t play no basketball |
| Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve, but you didn’t |
| Double G, my Gucci shirt is linen |
| I put Forgiatos on a Bentley |
| Windows tinted, they can’t see who in it |
| I ain’t been broke in a minute |
| They ain’t sold dope in a minute |
| Back in the days, I sold plenty |
| 'Cause minimum wage wasn’t gon' get it |
| We gangbang, nigga, rep your set, what the fuck you claim |
| Thick bitch, tattoo on her ass, yeah, that be my name |
| Talk shit, I’ma get you changed for a piece of change |
| Walkin' lick, silence on the stick, you won’t hear a thing |
| Sold dope from my grandma house, 'cause I’m a hustler |
| You might get a discount if you a customer |
| Yeah, I think you’s a rat nigga, you hang with bustas |
| This bitch say she in love with me, but I don’t trust her |
| I pulled up, I’m in a Tesla, the color mustard |
| You police, you tryna cuff her, I’m tryna fuck her |
| She callin' me, I blocked her number, I’m tryna duck her |
| Leave niggas with the shitty face, I make 'em suffer |
| Got racks up in the pillowcase and under the covers |
| You in a turtle race, I got a quicker pace, I’m gettin' bigger cake |
| Bigger cake up on my dinner plate, what should I eat today? |
| Aim at your head, crack it like a egg, you think its Easter Day |
| I just bought my shooter Rugers, fuck her, send her in a Uber |
| I’m a winner, you’s a loser, fuck the teacher and a tutor |
| The feds watch my stash house, I gotta watch how I maneuver |
| You make me bring my mask out, you’d think that I was Freddie Kreuger |
| They find you with your ass out, now you smellin' like manure |
| I picked up my shell casings, dump them bitches in the sewer |
| We shot up the family reunion, bitch, we some party poopers |
| I fucked her and sold her a dream, I think I’m Martin Luther |
| You fucked up, think you can fuck with me, you got me fucked up Like Rosa, |
| feet kicked up, sittin' on the back of my tour bus |
| When I left the strip club, I pulled out doin' donuts |
| Ride Forgios and Velanos while your car on donuts |
| Niggas sneak dissin' and don’t even know us |
| You say you 'bout it, you gon' have to show us |
| Run off with your money like janky promoters |
| My car is my baby, I roll like a stroller |
| And we pop your top like some strawberry soda |
| These bankrolls on me be so big, I can’t fold 'em |
| And we empty Glocks, double back and reload 'em |
| I ran out of coke, so that soap what I sold 'em |
| It’s so many grams in these blunts, I can’t roll 'em |
| Got so many bricks on them boats, I can’t float 'em |
| These pistols got bodies, but we still gon tote 'em |
| Won’t aim at your body, them caskets, we close 'em |
| Kid Wond3r, you made this beat? |
| Damn |
| Skrt, skrt |