Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Shrimp & Broccoli , by - V Don. Release date: 05.11.2015
Song language: English
Shrimp & Broccoli |
| It’s that Orangutan rap |
| King Kong hanging off the Empire State shit |
| Jane in my left hand |
| V hit my turf and you’s a dead man |
| These pills can’t hurt me worse than regret can |
| Santana Moss, I ain’t a Jets fan |
| Lambs wear broken, the plans get spoken |
| A hoe gets choked if she acting up |
| I’m channeling a code to Henry Hill |
| My mistress flew in from Brazil |
| I bought two choppers cause I’m feeling like the coppers on my tail |
| Shit is real, done |
| Son’n niggas like I’m stepdad |
| Dolla been clocking, serving Oxy up in Chem class |
| Turning people’s kids to fiends to watch my dreams come true |
| I mean somebody gotta lose if it’s a dub you pursue |
| He slumped in the coupe the color of moose |
| Back rubbing and he fucked the masseuse |
| Just my brothers a few blood niggas and guns in the crew |
| We unbudgeable |
| Look in the mirror and ask yourself nigga, fucking with who |
| It’s Dolla… |
| .357 recline ya, my bitch mouth is designer |
| No warning shots, this is just a reminder |
| Not to fuck with a young made trap boss |
| Ya limbs’ll get hacked off |
| So watch ya mouth, ya lips’ll get smacked off |
| My bitches get packs off and train like Angelina in Salt |
| Suck you to sleep and then they slip in the vault |
| You ain’t no thug, you caught a simple assault |
| My whole team got A-1 felony, fuck is you telling me |
| Funny nigga, look like Bill Bellamy |
| Counting stacks, pockets full of celery |
| Bodies in the cellar, two gym stars swinging like propellers |
| You a rat, and I ain’t tripping off of cheddar |
| Fake tough and get you wet up |
| All that laying up with hoes’ll get you set up |
| You say you getting money, put a bet up |
| Red bandana, wrap my head up, blood |
| This out the mud gang, 9 Trey gangster, this is blood gang |
| Coming for your block, and make it flood gang |
| Off every drug but I’m functional |
| Black, I’m never punctual |
| Dine filet mignon, you eating lunchables |
| I come around make you feel uncomfortable |
| Ain’t really with the fronting |
| Pull a stunt on me, that .40-cal is slumping you |
| Hunnit Round Hef… |