Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bautista, artist - Westside Gunn. Album song Flygod Is An Awesome God, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.07.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Griselda
Song language: English
Bautista |
Ayy, yo, let’s hit an island, gave the MAC to the pilot |
Stepping on the coke SB’s, Nicky diamonds |
You couldn’t walk a mile in, put the barrel on his eyelid |
You fuck niggas can’t rhyme here, no timeshare |
The new king of New York, I be your highness |
So many fake niggas, I can’t tell the difference |
Broad day, bullets back and forth like table tennis |
My main shooter yayo sniffing |
Hundred thou' on his books, he lost weight in prison |
He came home just to lay on niggas (Ah) |
They fucking with us, how you figure, nigga? |
Caught him coming from the shower, had to rip him |
Praise both or it’s sacrilegious |
Mathematicians, money machines broke |
Fiends overdosing over dishes |
Don’t owe us or get your mom smoked |
Power drive them off the fourth rope, that nigga spine broke |
Lord learn your lessons |
Bulletproof beneath the Heron Preston, airhole TEC’s |
Hopping out the bushes when you least expect it |
My nigga surfin' on the Wraith, shootin' out the roof |
Mister hit his baby moms, bullet hit her coupe |
Fiend locked up in the bathroom tryna shoot |
Nigga fell and hit the sink, knocked out your tooth |
Ayy yo, MAC interstellar, a gauge storms and cooked the brick |
Lagerfeld umbrella, my bagger got a nasal drip |
Hazel 6 picked me out the lineup 'cause I had the fish |
Package flip, peace to Tio, that nigga active Crip, got a grip |
Blew his brains out, now he back to licks, half the shit, pussy |
That’s why I keep the rubber grip |
Undercover parker, who could fuck with this? |
Illustrious |
Somebody hand me the plate, you’re sniffin' dust and shit |
Double pack stuffed with Bics, match the wrap, parker |
Coupe 300, meet the bodybag, hustler |
Make sure the work clean, talkin' Pinesol |
Rocking all this giant candy like the lights off |
Double pack stuffed with Bics, match the wrap, parker |
Coupe 300, meet the bodybag, hustler |
Make sure the work clean, talkin' Pinesol |
Rocking all this giant candy like the lights off |
Ayy yo, my nigga surfin' on the Wraith, shootin' out the roof |
Mister hit his baby moms, bullet hit her coupe |
Fiend locked up in the bathroom tryna shoot |
This nigga fell and hit the sink, knocked out his tooth |