Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ambush, artist - OFB. Album song Frontstreet, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 30.10.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rat Trap
Song language: English
Ambush |
Sykes, Sykes |
Woi-woi-woi-woi-woi |
I’m in the back of this car, no taxi |
Sadly, I beg a man please try mad me |
You’ll see this hand ting get handy |
Live-O corn when I slap this gladly |
One in the head, jump out and get tappy |
I didn’t catch him, I didn’t go back happy |
Pattys, pattys, some fucking pattys |
Bally up, spot man and get splashy |
Switch |
You don’t wanna see me switch up off the moped with a stick, no witch |
This sweet one stepped out in drip |
Three balls in her tongue, this brown skins thick |
Telling me she rates my songs and dick |
Back Rambos, not a fan of flicks |
This .38 hand ting holds six |
Like Turna, with bae I can’t slip |
I can talk on bare man’s name |
Fifteen, that was me on the ride with my blade |
Then the next two rides man went on |
The wap got brought, the spinner and the gauge |
If you don’t see no one at Tops or Commerce |
We’re circling Turnpike Lane |
Tryna just ching man out of their J’s |
Ayy, broski holdin' the clutch then brake |
Bro’s too tapped, he keeps on squeezing |
Sneezing, this is the shotgun season |
Get back gang with the dotty’s revealing |
S slapped it, jumped out and beat it |
Gang 'dem crash, no Flight of the Phoenix |
Two in the dots for five of these eediats |
Shh got cheffed up and then left bleeding |
Lack on the road, that’s normal procedures |
These opp boys must’ve gone ku-ku |
'Cause I’m really on drills, no fibs |
Man’s holding a fuck off chings |
If you see Double Lz, step round with a limp |
Always two guns up in the whip |
Slap that quick, watch his whole body twitch |
Don’t think you can ride on the Nizz |
Man slide right back in a tinted whip |
If I slap this corn out the hand ting |
It’s a mad ting if I press this trigger |
Six man squashed in this dinger |
Chest shot chinger, Jump Out Gang with this spinner |
This opp thot come way too inna |
Cah her friend got shot, she don’t know who’s the driller |
To all the opp boys, it’s your friends we bill up |
No reaction, they don’t ride for their nigga |
I’m on the O, ten toes with my soldiers |
I don’t beef my age, I got beef with olders |
Man crash this corn off motors |
This shotgun slaps and it flings my shoulder |
Tion Wayne is a fucking joker |
Come carni tryna spill juice, that’s soaker |
Buck four, he tried run with his poker |
He’s with DV and they both got poked up |
Yo, I’m tryna do it like Boogs |
Swing blades in hoods but they got broski on the case |
This shotgun come long like Grace |
Half it-half it so it comes in the rave |
On the stage with H, big shank on my waist |
So I’m in N9 with my mates |
Gang changing plates |
Tape off your estates, then head straight back to the base |
This sweet one keeps talking 'bout dates |
If I slap this gauge, whole neighbourhood awakes |
Bro Kush put his foot on the brakes |
My driller backed it and try hit that face |
If we can’t see H then we gon' get blades |
Either way, it works both ways |
Bro’s drunk off Wrays, got corn for days |
So don’t get blammed on the mains |
I’m in the back of this car, no taxi |
Sadly, I beg a man please try mad me |
You’ll see this hand ting get handy |
Live-O corn when I slap this gladly |
One in the head, jump out and get tappy |
I didn’t catch him, I didn’t go back happy |
Pattys, pattys, some fucking pattys |
Bally up, spot man and get splashy |
Switch |
You don’t wanna see me switch up off the moped with a stick, no witch |
This sweet one stepped out in drip |
Three balls in her tongue, this brown skins thick |
Telling me she rates my songs and dick |
Back Rambos, not a fan of flicks |
This .38 hand ting holds six |
Like Turna, with bae I can’t slip |
I can talk on bare man’s name |
Fifteen, that was me on the ride with my blade |
Then the next two rides man went on |
The wap got brought, the spinner and the gauge |
If you don’t see no one at Tops or Commerce |
We’re circling Turnpike Lane |
Tryna just ching man out of their J’s |
Ayy, broski holdin' the clutch then brake |
Sykes, Sykes |