Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song No Smoke, artist - Quando Rondo. Album song Life After Fame, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 23.09.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Atlantic, Never Broke Again, QRN
Song language: English
No Smoke |
Load up the glizzy with two extensions drum with the fifty |
When I up it, it ain’t no missing, shoot til it’s empty |
Y’all must ain’t heard my last song, anybody can get it |
I’m on my road to them riches I ain’t stressin' these bitches |
Reverse the clip and spend the Benz bullets bouncin' off fitted |
And y’all don’t get no cool points for that accident killin' |
I’m from Hitch village where niggas really clutchin' extensions and that’s on |
crip the beef ain’t squashed til somebody be missin' |
Jumped off the porch cause I was broke, I got them bands now |
Light up a port, cock back my pole and knock his mans down |
And all that Instagram thuggin gone get you ran down |
And we ain’t playin round, choppers get to sprayin' rounds |
And when it’s up I swear it’s stuck no ain’t understandin' |
I dropped a bag with my advance that I got from Atlantic |
Jumped out with sticks and Glocks with dicks and them niggas had panic |
The way that K stutter you’d think it speakin' in Spanish |
Shots to the brain if he ever think about touchin' my chain |
Brand new draco sound rusty but when it shoot it spit flames |
Glock twenty-three extended clips call it LeBron James |
Heard of Lil Tim, he OTM, when he shoot he got aim |
Load up the glizzy with two extensions drum with the fifty |
When I up it, it ain’t no missing, shoot til it’s empty |
Y’all must ain’t heard my last song, anybody can get it |
I’m on my road to the riches I ain’t stressin' these bitches |
Reverse the clip and spend the Benz bullets bouncin' off fitted |
And y’all don’t get no cool points for that accident killin' |
I’m from Hitch village with niggas really clutchin' extensions and that’s on |
crip the beef ain’t squashed til somebody be missin' |
They hated on that Life Before Fame, well this the life after |
Hitlist got a book of names nigga don’t make the next chapter |
Since you actin' like it’s smoke with us fuck it we handin' out cancer |
He wish he never spoke on us catch him at church and murk the pastor |
I’m having visions of killin' bodies bout to be missin |
I’m dressin' up in black dickies you know lil' Leaky with me |
Feds say the shit is ridiculous lil' Quando run the city |
Two hundreds holes in your car the news say we over did it |
I drop a bag in the morning, tonight you on a stretcher |
I’m ridin' round in a foreign grippin' on a she’ll catcha |
My youngin do it outta love but I’ma still bless 'em and if he bring me back yo |
head shid I’ma give 'em extra |
Load up the glizzy with two extensions drum with the fifty |
When I up it, it ain’t no missing, shoot til it’s empty |
Y’all must ain’t heard my last song, anybody can get it |
I’m on my road to the riches I ain’t stressin' these bitches |
Reverse the clip and spend the Benz bullets bouncin' off fitted |
And y’all don’t get no cool points for that accident killin' |
I’m from Hitch village with niggas really clutchin' extensions and that’s on |
crip the beef ain’t squashed' til somebody be missin' |