Lyrics Crash Dummy - Quin Nfn

Crash Dummy - Quin Nfn
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crash Dummy, artist - Quin Nfn. Album song QUINCHO, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.03.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: TenThousand Projects
Song language: English

Crash Dummy

Gang, baow, baow, baow, baow, ayy
Hold on, ayy, ayy, hold on, gang
Hold on, hold on
I swear to god I ain’t ever had luck
Feeling like 'Pac how we hitting niggas up
And we in the four with them sticks in the truck
Talking about beef, and he blitzin' or what?
Chanel on my sneaks, is he crippin' or what?
She say she like when I grip on her butt
Play with her, she gon' die, we be tripping for nothing
Bust down the Rollie, a two tone
She a thot, I’ma pop with my shoes on
It be feeling so right when I do wrong
Niggas sleeping on Quin, tell them, «Snooze on»
I been trapping too hard got a new phone
'Cause I ain’t got time for the feds, nigga
Nigga play with that gang, he a dead nigga
Have him holding his heart like the pledge, nigga
Send a whole lot of shots, we gon' slide like a Visa
Riding foreign with my bitch, we both got us a Bimmer
And these niggas flock, tryna cop my demeanor
Try to run in the trap and get ran like fajitas
We got a whole lot of shots, Tequila
Playing with a whole lot of racks, Serena
She know I’m rich, she pick up when I need her
Rocking Dior, but the Prada look cleaner
I been on guala since I was a toddler
Refuse to step out unless I’m rocking designer
She wanna fuck cause she know I’m a problem
I came out the four and I’m strapped with the chopper
Teed up, we tryna shoot at niggas' mamas
We gon' take a four if you start up that drama
Came from the block, I was deep with my partners
Now we in LA tryna eat on some pasta
We upping the shots, he gon' need him a doctor
Tvo throwing G’s with some G’s on his collar
I’m tired of the ratchets I need me a rider
Got a whole lot of cheese, need the whole enchilada
He made a diss but ain’t go with his morgue
Heard he dropped the bag, come and get it approved
Cause he want some beef, it’s gon' end on the news
I be rolling up Runtz to go land on the moon
I’m gone, hold on, hold on
I swear to god I ain’t ever had luck
Feeling like 'Pac how we hitting niggas up
And we in the four with them sticks in the truck
Talking about beef, and he blitzin' or what?
Chanel on my sneaks, is he crippin' or what?
She say she like when I grip on her butt
Play with her, she gon' die, we be tripping for nothing
Bust down the Rollie, a two tone
She a thot, I’ma pop with my shoes on
It be feeling so right when I do wrong
Niggas sleeping on Quin, tell them, «Snooze on»
I been trapping too hard got a new phone
'Cause I ain’t got time for the feds, nigga
Nigga play with that gang, he a dead nigga
Have him holding his heart like the pledge, nigga
Damn
Hold on, hold on, oh
Riding around town
Playing around with us
Talking about nothing, another one down
Fucking around with us, you get shot, popped
I’m Chris Brown
Nigga play around, we gon' hunt him down
I’m in the four, tryna, hold on

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Artist lyrics: Quin Nfn