| Uh, uh, uh
|
| Trauma Tone
|
| Ring ring (Brrt), I just got a fed call (Call)
|
| You know that must mean somebody is dead and gone (Uh-huh)
|
| Got a redbone, she just want that bread, dawg (Want that bread, dawg)
|
| I took her to the loft, she suck my head off (Oh)
|
| Did this song, we didn’t group up with the head on
|
| New coupe (Skrrt), same color eggnog
|
| You play with the gang, we take your head off (Gang gang)
|
| Bang bang (Young Jefe, holmes), murked 'em then we spin off
|
| We gon' ride on a nigga, we gon' slide (We gon' slide)
|
| Jump out, five of them niggas, homicide (Oh, oh)
|
| She got tired of them niggas, she was smart (She was smart)
|
| I had to hide all them niggas, they was hot (Oh, oh)
|
| Oh, I knocked her out the park, it was a curve too (Woah)
|
| I mix that Off-White with Louis just like Virgil do (Just like Virgil)
|
| I’m insane, lil' nigga, I will murder you (Oh yeah)
|
| Who these lame lil' niggas? |
| I never heard of you (Never heard of you)
|
| Got your bitch, yeah, Audemar my wrist, yeah (Check out my wrist)
|
| I got brick fare, woo, I think I’m Ric Flair (Woo, woo)
|
| Take a trip with a baddie, quick dip, yeah (Quick dip)
|
| A nigga snitch, gotta put him in a ditch, yeah (Yeah)
|
| Ring ring (Brrt), I just got a fed call (Call)
|
| You know that must mean somebody is dead and gone (Uh-huh)
|
| Got a redbone, she just want that bread, dawg (Want that bread, dawg)
|
| I took her to the loft, she suck my head off (Oh)
|
| Did this song, we didn’t group up with the head on
|
| New coupe (Skrrt), same color eggnog
|
| You play with the gang, we take your head off (Gang gang)
|
| Bang bang, murked 'em then we spin off
|
| These niggas ain’t hard as they speak
|
| Left shots from the yard to the streets
|
| These niggas facecard say deceased
|
| If he play, put that boy underneath
|
| I pray for my deacon, stand up and I preach
|
| I’m preferring that chopper whenever I preach
|
| Had to run up a sack, I ain’t never gon' leech
|
| Put Off-White on my back and Dior on my sneaks
|
| When you talkin' that boy, we serve it better
|
| Thirty hang out that pole, beyond steppers
|
| We be stretchin' that dope for non-helpers
|
| Every day we gon' roll, we all felons
|
| Shawty a fool, admit that shit pressure
|
| She sellin' them arms off her own celly
|
| In the cell we don’t crack, ain’t nobody tellin'
|
| I’ma rip me an app, put it up, I bet it
|
| On the stage for that bag, ain’t nobody smilin'
|
| I got choppers and masses, you get the message
|
| When they try to get to me, I up and pop it
|
| They say shit to get to me, I never let it
|
| That shawty so bad, I’ma beat her body
|
| Thirteen grand on a bracelet, it cost eleven
|
| Niggas bitches, they talkin' too much, I’m steppin'
|
| Everybody around me, they strapped and ready, gang
|
| Ring ring (Brrt), I just got a fed call (Call)
|
| You know that must mean somebody is dead and gone (Uh-huh)
|
| Got a redbone, she just want that bread, dawg (Want that bread, dawg)
|
| I took her to the loft, she suck my head off (Oh)
|
| Did this song, we didn’t group up with the head on
|
| New coupe (Skrrt), same color eggnog
|
| You play with the gang, we take your head off (Gang gang)
|
| Bang bang (Young Jefe, holmes), murk 'em then we spin off |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Skit , by - Shy Glizzy. Song from the album Covered N Blood, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп