Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Last Call, artist - The Underachievers. Album song Lords of Flatbush 3, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.06.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Slang
Song language: English
Last Call |
Hey |
YDNA |
I’m a backwoods nigga, them gangstas with us |
We far, that’s word to the set |
Brought the macs out with us, he backed out with it |
Your team get hit with the TEC |
Woah that’s fine my nigga, I dive in bitches |
In the world just to get in checks |
Yeah we a mile high nigga, with the Gods right with us |
We last, still smoking the best |
I got the light, now she open like roaders |
I get so high, I be feeling heroic |
No GMO, get my weed from the growers |
AK the illest, most valuable poet |
I put a four in the tea, ya I pour it |
You got some snakes in your grass, better mow it |
She give me brain, like she download a modem |
Trap with the pole, I ain’t talkin' bout totem |
My team be with it, my bitch be sittin' |
My VS hittin', my wrist be spinnin' |
My cheese get spittin', my benz ain’t rented |
My shit ain’t tinted, my fit authentic |
My G’s ain’t friendly, my gangsta’s with it |
Your gansta’s missing, we blacks all living |
Your sack ain’t hittin', your wax ain’t with you |
No strap ain’t with you, don’t press that |
Spittin' that fire no match for the coast |
Called that shit up and I’m passin' the smoke |
No heart get put but that ice on me cold |
She give it up like her life on the ropes |
Nigga I’m winnin', you stuck on them bitches |
I’m forth, and them inches, I get to gold |
Handle my business, I started, I finished, in part |
And my linguish just smashing your ho' |
Drop top nigga, like hats off |
Tip top feel it, like that’s shock |
Feel like winning, no mask off |
No no limit, like black cough |
Stick to my business, like that’s all |
Real life livin', no wack sauce |
Keep my digits, my bank tall |
Drink till I’m finished, like last call |
I sip that Henny, I whip that belly |
Make shorty get loose in the truck |
Nigga I grip that semi, my wrists feel heavy |
My troops stay strapped for the fund |
Yeah my hoes fuck with me, my chicks feel lucky |
My team real comfy, your team look funny |
That pack stay on me, your packs ain’t potent |
Your gang ain’t homies, your strap ain’t |
Pull up and then, get the pack for the low |
Ain’t bout a check, then I walk out the door |
Strapped with the weapon, you step and we blow |
Might loose my temper, and shoot up your home |
My team official, you niggas is clones |
She see the difference, that’s why she be gone |
I need my cheese, I need that provolone |
These niggas is vegan, so I eat it all |
Pull up on your bitch like skrrt |
M4 coupe bumpin' A$AP Ferg |
Niggas can’t loose if you put in that work |
Niggas can’t shoot if they get clapped first |
Woah won’t pass you nothin', you pass out from it |
No handouts dummy, we cash out somethin' |
Your life be frontin', your wife ain’t loyal |
Your time is broken, my eyes is sore |
Talk a lot of shit, red dot em' like Hindu |
You ain’t coming back, nigga even with a Senzu |
Shorty get a tax, like but then we gotta break loose |
Gotta leave a mark, like graffiti what my days do |
Grew up with the sharks, and you looking like bait food |
Mommy go nuts, 'fore a nigga call her Babe Ruthe |
Smoke in my lungs, hit a nigga like a quaalude |
Claim you a thug, but these shells might change you |