Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Darling Pardon, artist - Phineas. Date of issue: 05.10.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Darling Pardon |
| Not gonna lie I’m cross |
| Not gonna lie I’m cross |
| Cause they’ve got my friends in a box |
| Cause they’ve got my friends in a box |
| Not gonna lie I’m cross |
| Cause they’ve got my friends in a box |
| That’s a lesson learned, not lost |
| Told them clocks don’t stop |
| Still tryna sweep these opps |
| Driver stops |
| Everyone screaming Spartan |
| I don’t understand you ain’t a part of Harlem (gyal) |
| Know that we fly them Jordan, bros |
| No free man like Morgan |
| Darling Pardon, Harlem Spartans |
| We ain’t like them, they’re bastards |
| Splashes and mashers, 300 texts |
| Splash up a man, who’s next |
| Stepping |
| Man step on the block with weapons |
| Bellz up close, one shot get qweffing |
| Spartan or Ku man’s repping |
| Bro’ll ring on the trap and get bredrin |
| Bro K on the K so tension |
| For the vengeance squad, done vengeance |
| I’m Phineas trap, get bands |
| That know man’s stepped on the rave and tensions |
| Splash splash splash on the rave |
| Or bring out the smoke no questions |
| 300 Spartans stepped on the block |
| Ten toes on the block with weapons |
| Feds locking my Gs in seconds |
| Still ride on the block, still stepping |
| How many times have my guys done wettings |
| No time for a boo, ay |
| Gyalie on me, but the Spartans rude |
| Bad b tryna be Spartans too |
| Caramel skin, got lighties too |
| Brown and peng she’s looking all cute |
| Uh, uh, you say you got smoked and shoot |
| 6 man left in the Spartan crew |
| 5 man stepped on the block, where’s you? |
| 4 man dishing serving up food |
| 4 on 5 but they still got chewed |
| 2 man up still splashed that yute |
| 1 man up, he still got 2 |
| It’s Harlem b, get paid in full |
| It’s Harlem b, get paid in full |
| Not gonna lie I’m cross |
| Cause they put my friends in a box |
| That’s a lesson learned, not lost |
| Told ‘em the clocks don’t stop |
| Still tryna sweep these opps |
| Driver stops, 2 six tops they’re off |
| Man’s tryna ducking, no toss |
| Opps tryna get that boss |
| Get him gone |
| Hit jump out I’m gone |
| If we get a drop on the box that’s gone |
| Back to the trap, generate some prof |
| Tell a girl, hold this gwop |
| Yeah she’s feelin' my song |
| She might as well hold this mop |
| She brown and cute but I might want a caramel one |
| Now look what the caramel’s done |
| I don’t really know about guns |
| Then I bought a rambo |
| Dishing on blood |
| I ain’t in bish, tryna get a man bun |
| Soon as he steps on his mum |
| Sav with a cutter gotta push a man’s mum |
| Got him like damn |
| Damn, what a selfish son |
| Run, run, run |
| Run out of breath, get done |
| Run out of breath, get done |
| No social don |
| Watch all the tweaking and snitching |
| Like all the social’s long |
| Get round we’re Harlem Spartans |
| Sams in a fuck off dotty |
| Free Ty yeah he banged that shotty |
| Dumb jakes tryna bag my squadie |
| Got bells on the ride, that’s noddy |
| Still ring bells, Bellz still sinning |
| Opp bird, no crumbs, no pigeon |
| Get bread, that’s thumbs and digits |
| Brown peng, my bro just spin it |
| Same with the opp, just U it |
| Kenny bop and just do it |
| Seen with your olders, your whole day ruined |
| Opp boys tryna get me down, yeah he blew it |
| Had me a honey on the run |
| Even made him run with his dawg |
| Run Forrest, run |
| Them man snaked us, man they suck |
| He said he did it for blood |
| Fam, who said he’s rude, he’s an evil dude |
| If I’m rolling with Latz |
| And I got my splash |
| There’s how many more |
| Doing what we do |
| Jugg and bang, you know how we do |
| Harlem boo, get cash with my splash |
| No I won’t lack, even though they run from man |
| But, there’s always a button pusher |
| And I’m ready for the but and Pusha |
| No talk right here, I’ma teach him |
| It’s Sparta bitch for a reason |
| The opps do fast the dot dot ting |
| It ain’t long enough to reach him |
| But Max is Flash, and we try dash, so let him hold the thing |
| Dash or let him hold the thing |
| It jams then Spartans splash and ching |
| Let my niggas out of the bin |
| Take my niggas out of the bin |
| Everyone screaming Spartan |
| I don’t understand you ain’t a part of Harlem (gyal) |
| Know that we fly them Jordan, bros |
| No free man like Morgan |
| Darling Pardon, Harlem Spartans |
| We ain’t like them, they’re bastards |
| Splashes and mashers, 300 texts |
| Splash up a man, who’s next |