Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sour Kidd, artist - Soldier Kidd. Album song Xxx 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 28.02.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Tunecore
Song language: English
Sour Kidd |
| Ain’t none of you niggas me, and I ain’t none of you |
| All my niggas throwin' threes, and we the shit, talk it too |
| Nigga what the fuck you need? |
| Who the fuck you talkin' to? |
| All these niggas out here green, 'til it’s time to get the blues |
| She givin' brain like my teach', but she never tell the truth |
| I don’t practice, I just preach, niggas know I got the juice |
| I just clap it, poppin' beans, droppin' Xannies in my juice |
| We was snappin' in these streets before we ever hit the booth, come on |
| Ain’t no deuce-deuce, this a stick with a flute, come on |
| Ain’t no SuWoo, leave him bleedin', noodle soup |
| I just pulled up to my school, with my backpack and my tool |
| Man, lil' shawty dropped the woo, pussy lookin' like a pool |
| Go to bustin' out that MAC, I’ll pull up on a fool |
| We was hustling dimebags before they thought that shit was cool |
| Mama would put it on my ass, cause I never followed rules, uh |
| Ain’t no rap cat, don’t get whacked tryna be cool, uh |
| I say, my gang, my way |
| Any place, Sour K bring the K |
| I don’t throw shade, hit the club, make it rain |
| This ain’t Burger King, you can’t have it your way |
| I’m from Hell-ray, bring that pressure where you stay |
| Got a TEC, don’t get blatt, by the motherfuckin' gang |
| I’m ask Triple X what you motherfuckin' slang |
| I done turned up to your ex, 'cause she tryna be my bae |
| Now she slidin' Cadillac with her fuckin' seat back |
| Uh, uh, this a foreign, put your fuckin' feet back |
| All these niggas out here boring, give my fuckin' beat back |
| I done pulled up on that boy, where the fuck his heat at? |
| Hit your street, I’m a demon, shawty tryna steal my semen |
| Where was you when I was creepin'? |
| I’m too hot, might be a fever |
| Niggas sweet, like Justin Bieber, baby eat, ain’t you an eater? |
| It ain’t right unless I beat her, fuck your stripes, this ain’t Adidas |
| How I strike like Derek Jeter, crackers fuck you for Anita |
| Soldier slidin' like a beetle, bring that fire, just like FILA |
| Got a nine millimeter, bullets fly, Beanie Sigel, come on |
| Talkin' Desert Eagle, walk like God, but thinkin' evil |
| Bust a shot and we get equal |
| Bend your block, that’s a sequel |
| 'Cause we bendin' it and again, and again, and again |
| I had just told my mama I don’t really need no friends |
| Promise God I’ma come up, he forgive me for my sins, gang |
| Gang, gang, gang |
| Ayy, ayy, gang, gang, gang |
| It’s lil' Soldier on the beat, c’mon |
| It’s lil' Soldier with that heat |
| (Down, brrt) |