Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song N 2 Dat, artist - Sauce Walka.
Date of issue: 11.09.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
N 2 Dat |
JRag on the beat |
Know what I’m talkin' 'bout, ooh-wee |
Ghetto Gospel, nigga |
Hop off the blue bird and start smashin' shit |
Nigga got to the pen, I was thrashin' shit |
I was bustin' big store, I was havin' shit |
I had hoes on my books, I ain’t ask for shit |
Kept a blade in my boots, on some stabbin' shit |
Niggas gay in this bitch, on some grabbin' shit |
I was doin push-ups, on some savage shit |
Nigga got out the pen and I grabbed the bitch |
Made my first hundred thousand off Africans |
My ho is white as a napkin |
And she get paid off of travelin' |
I’m throwin' sauce like a javelin, look at the pad I’m in, livin' extravagant |
Once we know you a snitch you can’t trap again |
Once we know you a bitch you get slapped again |
My lil' bro broke his wrist in that glass again |
I told that nigga stop doin' that |
Go get you a bitch and be through with that |
Tryna whip up a brick, she work two with that |
And these boots I got on got the Gucci patch |
My belt Gucci too, so that Gucci match |
I walked out of court in some Gucci slacks |
Then broke on a bitch in a Gucci hat |
When I bought all them chains they said Gucci back |
I got white bitches slangin' that coochie back |
Bitch, I’m a dog, I eat Scooby Snacks |
And I’m stuck in the beat like a booby trap |
Bitch I grew out my hair just to lose the cap |
I took a pint on the cruise and nap |
I knock the P, make him lose his trap |
He couldn’t sleep, he on Google Maps |
Got in a race and start losin' laps |
Nigga see me, he salty, don’t give no daps |
Better stay off this smoke 'fore my Glock relapse |
And you end up on somebody’s shirt perhaps |
Know what I’m sayin' |
Ooh-wee |
Spray-cos, AR’s, and choppers, we into that |
Making hundreds off boppers, we into that |
Peelin' off on the coppers, we into that |
We ain’t ducking no squabbles, we into that |
Sendin' hits on our problems, we into that |
We like sticks and revolvers, we into that |
Can’t find you, hit your mama, we into that, yeah, we into that |
AR’s, Spray-cos, and choppers, we into that |
Makin' hundreds off models, we into that |
Peelin' off on the coppers, we into that |
We ain’t ducking no squabbles, we into that |
Sending hits on our problems, we into that |
We like sticks and revolvers, we into that |
Can’t find you, hit your mama, we into that, yeah, we into that |
Ooh-wee, ooh-wee |
Ooh-wee |