Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dear Winter Bloody Fiegs, artist - Westside Gunn. Album song Hitler's Dead, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 07.06.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Griselda
Song language: English
Dear Winter Bloody Fiegs |
Dear Winter |
Can’t wait to see you again |
Hitler Wears Hermes Three |
Rest in peace Machine Gun Black |
Ayo |
My man just came home from doing twenty flat |
He already back to selling crack |
He look at me and said «this all that he know» |
Rocking sasquatch fabrics from head to toe |
The cloth we was cut from it’s still loyalty |
Twelve gold slugs, Chanel mask you know it’s me |
(I'll blow your fucking head off yo…) |
Twelve gold slugs, Chanel mask you know it’s me |
Fly as a pelican, benevolent |
Drug money infectious, we whipping up extras |
My man got killed for two pounds of |
My kicks cost that, it hurt for me to see his kids |
I’m from a city where everybody got ten bodies |
Burberry trench covering the chopped shottie |
Niggas had buck shots in every part of 'em |
Yeah they might be fly now but I fathered them |
Call for neighbor dealers carving bricks |
Low top Margiela’s looking marvelous |
Style was Cristal foul, fountains of ace |
Leave 'em shot floating in it like Scarface |
You broke my heart when you killed Frank |
(Remember when Tony shot Pussy on the boats yo?) |
You broke my heart when you killed Frank |
(Seemed like yesterday I was running guns) |
Ayo, Sly still got four lives left |
Four leaf me to the night checks |
Ricardo, lemon squeeze, fifty shot TEC |
Shot fourty five hanging out the Murciélago |
Praying for tomorrow |
A lot of niggas never seen eighteen |
My young boy favorite color stay green |
Thirty years on the triple beam |
Broke the slot machines out in Medellin |
My man just came home from doing twenty flat |
He already back to selling crack |
He look at me and said «this all that he know» |
Rocking Sasquatch fabrics from head to toe |
The cloth we was cut from is still loyalty |
Twelve gold slugs, Chanel mask you know it’s me |
(I don’t give a fuck who you is you ain’t fucking with me yo) |
Twelve gold slugs, Chanel mask you know it’s me |
«I am Warhol. |
I am the No. 1 most impactful artist of our generation. |
I am Shakespeare in the flesh. |
Walt Disney, Nike, Google -- now who’s going to |
be the Medici family and stand up and let me create more or do you want to |
marginalize me until I’m out of my moment» |
I’m sniffing gun powder |
Ayo one rack be yola |
Them Bathing Ape Coca Cola |
Dropped a tear when Ghost shot Roller |
Spikes on the camouflage loafers |
Lord everything kosher |
Shot a hundred rounds, the whole hood woke up |
Kick in the door for the raw |
Shoot your baby mother in the forehead |
Started off with a double up |
Buck fifty your kids, they face will bubble up |
Nigga, ain’t nobody safe |
Rose gold R8, who wanna race me? |
We’ll be rich forever |
If the dog food tasty, I’m Azie |
MCM bucket in the mall scene |
No jump shots so we off king |
Joakim Noah when I post up |
Leave his body freezing like a cold cut |
Machine got killed it had me fucked up |
I ain’t been the same since let me sniff |
I was shackled on that bus taking trips |
You broke niggas get a bottle and take midget sips |
Give me a case of everything |
The triple beam like a wedding ring |