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 |