Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sorry Not Sorry, artist - Bandokay. Album song Drill Commandments, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 18.03.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rattrap Entertainment
Song language: English
Sorry Not Sorry |
M1 on the beat |
Bando |
Ay ay |
Gang shit |
Yo |
I still need P like Diddy, if you ain’t got P, you’re ready |
Go wet man down like a jersey, I’m praying he ends up in a telly |
He got assault tryna come out and welly, sticky, now he got holes in his belly |
Take off bare trap get shelly, swear I’m the one, I ain’t talking Headie (One) |
(Ay) |
Slow down miss, you’re too inner, don’t worry about how many mans in my chinger |
180 degrees that dinger, I’m sorry not sorry like Bryson Tiller (Spin it) |
I remember that day was a thriller, bro popped off, blood flow like a river |
Four man, two shanks, one spinner, the driver’s looking around for a figure |
Duck, I ain’t tryna box right now |
No way you’re akhz, send bro right 'round |
I gave Key leng and it gave her clout |
Fuck that drop, no dingers about |
Fill it, fill it, bring that out |
(Mooh, glee) Air that now |
He ain’t got heart but he got bare mouth |
Fashion killer, she love my style (Ay ay) (Yo) |
Them men ain’t got heart like Kevin, he’s leaving his brethren, like slow down |
my yute |
Feds swear they ain’t screaming Pyru, typhoon or a vesper tryna find you |
We don’t rap nonsense, I ain’t like you |
Fight who? |
Bro wet that, it went right through (Ching ching) |
Free Slim Jim, he don’t fight too, pretty old one, told brother she’s like you |
Pretty and bad, pretty and mad, sad, if you ain’t got no guap (Brass) |
Moment of silence, I heard that the yute got done in the shop |
Girl on my block and they love milly rock, flex with gang, send hits in New York |
Stop, two got hit in their top, send enough for corn on every opp block |
Just see opps so spin the car 'round, bloaw, that’s how the spinner gon' sound |
Two hands on this thing like the Queen in the south, don’t mean no bitch tryna |
beaten it out |
Cutie a thing, we gon' skeet it around, my ching chong sauced, I’m cleaning it |
down |
Drip drip, that’s great, gunshot one reason to help |
Man grew up in the farm estate, best guard your face when I blast that gauge |
In the car with a star, no wraith, gonna dig man’s rast, make him Harlem shake |
I don’t know 'bout them, we don’t par with the jakes |
Man roll with the red, they’re target face |
Don’t come into man, you ain’t styling or brave |
Could be the wrong path and the last you take |
Creep, who’s tryna let that speak? |
Skeet (Skee), she all on me |
Christian Lou', rude skeet |
She rude and dead, move, leave |
Teddy with a bruckshot, big man jump off, we won’t do womp ups, let that breathe |
The gyal gets shy when I’m in that scene, she can’t get cuffed if she from IG |
Your boyfriend bad, but Loski badder, mazza, big skee skee your spragga |
Trapper, school days Hannah Montana |
Dance, turn any boy Mick Jagger |
Run up where? |
Send shot, get badder |
Ain’t ching shit for the block and manor |
Bob the Builder, up that ladder |
There’s scrap pack, not Michael Dapper |
Bro just got the drop on the opps, slap bells on the Glock and I’m beating this |
shotty |
Copy, done it ASAP like Rocky, done it and 'caused mans stress in Totty (Bare |
stress) |
My lil' bro love splashing, a hobby, tell him cooled down, get rich like Roddy |
(Ricch) |
Bodies bodies, we drop bodies, sorry to say we’re not sorry |