Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Snack Pack, artist - St. Leroy II. Date of issue: 09.11.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Snack Pack |
| Need a gas mask the pack too loud |
| Me an my day ones til we in the ground (Forever) |
| Post |
| Carry dead presidents my pockets like a hearse |
| I’m from dade county fuck a foreign want a vert |
| No silver spoon |
| We all got the gift just a different curse |
| I could sell water to a whale (Splashy) |
| I could sell fur coats to a bear (Burrr) |
| Never sell dreams to a bitch |
| Everything else I’ll it flip |
| Treat 10's like they 5's (Huh) |
| Left a load in her mouth like dryer (Get her!) |
| These are the days of our lives |
| Mind is on cloud |
| Ooh ooo ooh |
| I will never testify (No I won’t) |
| R.I.P to my dawgs in the sky |
| Oh lord |
| Got a few racks in my snack pack (I'm powered) |
| Fuck the IRS they cannot tax (Flex) |
| Big Daddy Kane ain’t no half steppin' (Oh no) |
| Bank account my best friend (Yatta!) |
| Look like rainforest in my snack pack (Heeeshh!) |
| So much trees it look like we at camp (Savvy) |
| Need a gas mask the pack too loud |
| Me an my day ones til we in the ground (Forever) |
| Post |
| Carry dead presidents my pockets like a hearse |
| I’m from dade county fuck a foreign want a vert |
| No silver spoon |
| We all got the gift just a different curse |
| Dreaded Up Jesus here for the people (Angelic Hah!) |
| Dreaded Up Jesus one with people (Angelic Hah!) |
| Holy grail yea that my pimp cup (Ayye) |
| We don’t lift weights we lift blunts (Gas!) |
| She said I could I have her heart if I need it |
| Can’t cash love at bank told her keep it |
| Light up trees like it’s Christmas |
| Zeb move slow I’m might flip dust |
| Tryna' get my happy up |
| Lost too many that I loved |
| Quilly got my body numb |
| Make sure my coffin platinum |
| Love it when I don’t feel nothin' |
| Oh lord |
| Got a few racks in my snack pack (I'm powered) |
| Fuck the IRS they cannot tax (Flex) |
| Big Daddy Kane ain’t no half steppin' (Oh no) |
| Bank account my best friend (Yatta!) |
| Look like rainforest in my snack pack (Heeeshh!) |
| So much trees it look like we at camp (Savvy) |
| Need a gas mask the pack too loud |
| Me an my day ones til we in the ground (Forever) |
| Sincerely, Dreaded Up Jesus |