Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hebru, 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
Hebru |
[Intro: Sample + |
Westside Gunn |
«There you go, there you go |
What I’m getting from this is really that feeling you were describing before |
about how it’s a very physical act |
A big part of it is me being in the studio all of the time and you know, |
a huge passion of mine is to be able to |
Take it to the streets, getting that sort of feedback as I work |
It’s kind of, like, you get the people to, like, kind of bear witness to your |
passion manifest and, like, feel it with you or see |
Absolutely, and they become part of the process» |
Brrt! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
(Ayo) |
Brrt! |
Brrt! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
Boom! |
Ayo—MAC in the Supreme with the mic jack (brrt) |
These niggas actin' like they ill, they ain’t like that |
Gatorade 6's, yay flippers, we in the cell reminiscing |
All you heard was, «CO, I’m hit», they caught him slippin |
Lord forgive him, robbed the dice game, bought a 100 suits |
Had the joint on 'em, ten flights, threw 'em off the roof |
He landed on Mercer by Versace |
Last time they see me I’ll be shootin' out the Masi |
Gucci tearaway suits, Jesus, make two bricks out of one |
Wipe your fucking prints off and we bool |
Gold horse from '76, I think this Nicky Barnes shit |
Unwrap the third crystal, you know the god fish |
Balenciaga bucket shot the whole whip up, he launched it |
I make the sky gray, rain yay, Canali jumpers (boom boom boom boom boom boom |
boom) |
Ayo, I make the sky gray, rain yay, Canali jumpers |
Hi points for throwaways |
I know they jam, but I’ma hit you five times in the gut |
He need another rib |
Fieg purple Maestros on the tight rope |
Bags was 35, I had them for 32, they gave them hope |
Davey Boy Smith with no kick, with the rubber handle |
A new yacht every week, John Sanden sandals (lalalalalala) |
Ayo, a new yacht every week, John Sanden sandals |
If Griselda and Adolf had a baby, he would be a little Shady |
He would make me his lady |
Red roses and blood diamonds for his lady |
He would let me read poetry to his enemies |
Before he chopped their heads off |
Pyramid schemes iller than Madoff |
Sticky weed and bulletproof vests |
Talk slick, dump a clip in your chest |
Poisoning puppies for practice, murderous tendencies |
Giving bitches a buck fifty for fun |
Packing grenades, he’s sipping Perignon |
But it’s Ace of Spades in my flute |
No words exchanged, just give him the signal, my nigga shoot |
Japanese denim and Fendi ankle boots |
Coconut color Carreras |
A hundred for the lipstick, fifty for the mascara |
Four-hundred on something see-through from the La Perla |
Skin and hair scented in Clive Christian, number one |
Baron spectacular, he knew fucking her would be dangerous fun |
[Outro:? |
& |
Tell her, tell her |
Can I get my 75 cents? |
Tell her, tell her again |
Damn, he gon' give it to you |
No, I need 75 cents out of you |
I got you |
Ooh, lemme see that, bro |
I want it outta her |
What you need to do, is you need to tell her- |
Guess what, guess what. |
I got the and I want |
Say it, say it again |
Give it, give me my 75 cents and I’ll show you how I go brrow, he haw, he haw, |
he |
Well, how much, how much? |
75 cents |
this bitch |
You gon' do all that under what? |