| Niggas or man. |
| Doors!
|
| Fuck you wanna try draw man up Serious
|
| 1011k, man know
|
| Nah, splash k, man know
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| Fuck the opps *another asthamatic cough*
|
| (Verse 1):
|
| Anything opp get fucking deaded
|
| Anyone pussy you man don’t leg it Swimming dig it (?) just make sure you get it Clearly this yute ain’t learnt his lesson
|
| (Intro):
|
| Niggas or man. |
| Doors!
|
| Fuck you wanna try draw man up Serious
|
| 1011k, man know
|
| Nah, splash k, man know
|
| Fuck the opps *another asthamatic cough*
|
| (Verse 1):
|
| Anything opp get fucking deaded
|
| Anyone pussy you man don’t leg it Swimming dig it (?) just make sure you get it Clearly this yute ain’t learnt his lesson
|
| From time we now want pack
|
| You should of started counting blessings
|
| I don’t want to make this track some fucking dickhead you’ll live to regret it And how’s man making smoke
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| Please tell me, what have you done you fucking joke
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| I’ll spin man’s float, tell man fuck off leave me alone
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| Stupid delusions, pussy, you’re only acting bad cos you (?)
|
| But man like voe wanna bet that this cunt won’t make it home |
| (Verse 2):
|
| Now it’s so good come and hold this one
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| Dusty one she with the chubbiest nose
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| If I get man bunned, them man there stressed cos they know I’ve won
|
| Ayyy
|
| Some fucking actors, deserve BAFTAs, what a bunch of foolish cunts
|
| But, ayyyyy
|
| Quick my Ramps, C come here don’t run
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| Back it up, woosh, inject 2 lungs
|
| Anything splash get fucking bunned
|
| Man throw kings on their facts for fun (?)
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| Man don’t hop when the C don’t run
|
| How about I diss my son
|
| «Go suck your dirty, black, stinking Mum.»
|
| Some fucking prick who just loves to talk shit
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| All now I ain’t seen or heard
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| Anything that this bitch has done
|
| But I heard that you love to suck clit with them fuck off lips
|
| So fucking bulk out, you ain’t on shit
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| Your friend’s been brought in, you still get fished
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| Talk on my name now my Mum’s sure pissed
|
| But it’s all calm cos I fuck one bitch who knows where you live
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| Creep up let a smoke on your crib
|
| On my heart I’m burning this bridge
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| Fuck that who does the dickhead think that he fucking is is he fucking mad |
| Please roll on me, I’d be more than glad, live o back it up get fucking
|
| splashed (splash)
|
| Anything gold gets fucking grabbed (splash)
|
| Too broke for the devil now it’s war you twat, ay (*asthmatic cough*)
|
| (Verse 3):
|
| And I know you love verbal
|
| But for once, just please, do what you say on trap
|
| But wait, hold up, who’s this doughnut talking 'bout he’s gonna get man bunned
|
| And I’ve been in the field so long, all now these 1011 cunts
|
| Sorting scores, a single one, so L-O-L, that’s your luck
|
| When I see you you’re fucked
|
| Hop out the lean get touched
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| Man’s so firm when this thing does bruck
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| Slid it in, don't run, best stuck if the snow get’s packed on dust (?)
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| No cheap, no chip, I’m talking it’s strong
|
| Dickhead mix or yb and vibs (?) will be fucking gone
|
| I can’t lie that’s packs too strong
|
| But, you should’ve stayed in Russia
|
| Cos when I buck ya (you), your fucking dead
|
| Rambo no cover, and this brucker, is really filled with lead
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| And this waps' off safety
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| When it stutters, you’re gonna be thinking that you should’ve stayed in pen |
| But, don’t run then slip and buckle up in your whip
|
| Broken neck and feeling stiff, before it flicks and you’ll end up where your
|
| bredrin did
|
| Put it on my life cos you ain’t on shit
|
| Next time come better, when you try draw out the kid, some fucking prick |