Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lethal Weapon, artist - Nef The Pharaoh. Album song Mushrooms & Coloring Books, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.08.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: EMPIRE, KILFMB, Sick Wid It
Song language: English
Lethal Weapon |
Ah, wah |
Mmh, ah |
Ah, wah |
DTB on the beat, that’s bro |
And I still ain’t never heard of what you claimin', nigga |
Lil' richer, but I’m still gon' be the same nigga |
Neffy always with a heifer like I’m Rocko |
I’ma drop four and knock the shell off your taco |
Whole body inked up like a vato |
Give a fuck about a bitch 'cause we pop hoes |
Every day I’m in these streets like a pothole |
All sticks, I can’t tell you what the stock hold |
Your baby mama suckin' dick 'til she snot-nosed |
My dogs barking, I’m rocking Givenchy slip-ons |
I’m the type to squeeze a Glock 'til the clip gone |
And you the type to go on dates and take the bitch home |
I’m the type to bring some nigga mom home |
Get smacked if your ass acting macho |
5'7″, leave a tall nigga 5'4″ |
In the field choppin' shit like a lawnmower |
Ever since I got that check, I got a lot of bling |
Blue cheese, I think I’m Buffalo Wild Wings |
Dirty boy, all this damn mud got me drowning |
How you your brother’s keeper but you need no rounding |
It’s fifty on the Glock, I let that bitch do announcement |
Me and Lul G out the P, sippin' ounces |
Money counter, I don’t need no fuckin' accountant |
Niggas swear they ballin' like they Baby, bitch, I doubt it |
Fifty bands, all hundreds, I be counting |
On my neck, diamonds wetter than a fountain |
I be deep in your bitch, pussy drowning |
While you at the house with the kids, frowning |
In the trap with them packs, ain’t no lounging |
Might not never got to college, but my child is |
Real rap, I’ll never do a challenge |
And your nigga the definition of what a clown is |
Baby, you should put that nigga in a circus |
Chop clap like a fat bitch twerkin' |
Ah, bitch, I’m good, call me Charles |
I don’t lie, I don’t jaws, gonna die with no flaws |
I’ma serve the kickback when the Glock click-clack |
The dody in my sack awake God from a nap |
If it ain’t one in the head, why you ride with the strap? |
Started bettin' on the race, I was tired of running laps |
I was tired of running laps so I’m running up a check |
She was tired of throwin' it back so I got her givin' neck |
Before the SOB chain, around my neck was a TEC |
5 years old in the Vistas, I was thuggin' in the 'jects |
I’ma puke on her face and send her back to her ex |
Niggas bitin' on they nails, they ain’t scratch nothin' yet |
Gang hop off the plane and head straight to the traphouse |
Bow Wow challenge, he don’t live what he rap 'bout |
Damn near five bands plus when I cash out |
Got a fat white bitch, she a cash cow |
Big gun, fuck around and whip Shaq out |
Cavy on the side of kings hittin' the pow-pow |
Pull up, draw down, nigga, pow-pow |
Get on the stage, rock out, and dive in the crowd |
It feel good 'cause the world know my name now |
If I go down, I’m allergic, that mean I’m breaking out |