Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Tales From Tha Guttah , by - Ramirez. Release date: 18.04.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Tales From Tha Guttah |
| Put me in the dirt and leave my body to de-, body to decay |
| You feel me? |
| You see me hoppin' out that bucket with a donkey dick extended clip |
| Ridin' with your partner so that’s more bodies finna get hit |
| I’m from the streets that’ll chew you up and spit you out quick, in a jiffy |
| You say you 'bout that action but I’ve never seen you pull no licks |
| I let the llama do the speakin', it don’t take no talk-back (Grrah) |
| I take your bitch and make her flip, bitch, she gon' work her track |
| Protected by my dead homies, rollin' one deep inside the 'Lac |
| I pop the trunk, this thirty got me geekin', burnin' down the sack |
| Bitch, I’m the Militant Gorilla (Ayy, ayy) |
| The Walking Corpse and I ain’t talkin' 'bout no thriller |
| Totin' on the capper driller (Ayy, ayy) |
| Apply the pressure, stomp you out so you gon' feel this |
| It’s that boss shit, knock a bitch, I’m steady flossin' |
| I’m in the field, runnin' deep, watch me mosh shit |
| You in my hood so you better walk with caution |
| BGs gonna strip you down 'cause they ain’t got no other options |
| You say you 'bout it but you talkin' to the feds |
| My young BG pull up and bust your fuckin' head |
| There ain’t no God in here so he can’t hear your prayers |
| Knockin' down your block, it’s the Gorilla huntin' heads |
| You say you 'bout it but you talkin' to the feds |
| My young BG pull up and bust your fuckin' head |
| There ain’t no God in here so he can’t hear your prayers |
| Knockin' down your block, it’s the Gorilla huntin' heads |
| Let me tell you a thing; |
| streets don’t love you, that’s a game |
| I done seen too many goons get killed or locked up in the cage |
| You get taken from your innocence at a very young age |
| Tryna put food on the table 'cause yo' momma barely gettin' paid |
| Grew up in a roach-infested house, less cuttin', now fuck a drought |
| Tryna make the move 'cause this next nigga tryna take me out |
| Paranoia runnin' deep in through my mind |
| Huggin' tight all on my bitch but my bitch is a Glock .9 |
| The red beam touch your face, bring the static, watch me infiltrate |
| Pull up to your compound in the pit of rage |
| I’m like a surgeon, give your bitch-ass a new face, slit |
| Never trusted with the autopilot in the spaceship |
| Red and blue lights, duckin' from the feds, if I get caught, then I’m dead |
| Put me in a coffin, leave me bloody red |
| I’m out the window with that bullshit |
| I turn your kickback into a funeral, empty out the fuckin' clip |
| You say you 'bout it but you talkin' to the feds |
| My young BG pull up and bust your fuckin' head |
| There ain’t no God in here so he can’t hear your prayers |
| Knockin' down your block, it’s the Gorilla huntin' heads |
| You say you 'bout it but you talkin' to the feds |
| My young BG pull up and bust your fuckin' head |
| There ain’t no God in here so he can’t hear your prayers |
| Knockin' down your block, it’s the Gorilla huntin' heads |
| Put me in the dirt and leave my body to de-, body to decay |
| Put me in the dirt and leave my body to de-, body to de- |