Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shoes Tied, artist - YSN Flow.
Date of issue: 31.05.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Shoes Tied |
I’m ridin' with all that money must be why I keep a stick |
My shoes forever tied so you know I can never trip |
L462, ayy |
Spark up, spark up |
Blind to all that fuck shit must be why I keep a stick |
My shoes forever tied so you know I can never trip |
Ranch 'cause I be dressing straight designer, bitch I drip |
Crop him out the picture with this cannon on my hip |
And this cannon got a red dot |
Aim for headshots, cut his dreadlocks |
Hope he got his ID, 'cause his ass might get his head popped |
Better not, got a bread knot from that med drop |
Young but I be trappin' to them fiends who need them meds popped |
Got no regrets so watch how you step, fuck 'round and get stepped on |
And them boys watch up on me, 'cause they know I got this TEC on me |
And I hang 'round some savages who walk like they got vests on |
Put titties on a Glock and shoot this bitch until yo' neck gone |
Gucci shoes look like a lick when I was running from 12 |
My past been catchin' up I hope I don’t end up in that cell |
Y’all only focus on my wrongs but I’ve been tryna prevail |
It’s always fuck 'em that’s forever let my die when I fell |
Blind to all that fuck shit must be why I keep a stick |
My shoes forever tied so you know I can never trip |
Ranch 'cause I be dressing straight designer, bitch I drip |
Crop him out the picture with this cannon on my hip |
And this cannon got a red dot |
Aim for headshots, cut his dreadlocks |
Hope he got his ID, 'cause his ass might get his head popped |
Better not, got a bread knot from that med drop |
Young but I be trappin' to them fiends who need them meds popped |
I got this cannon on my hip and I’m gon' blow |
Hoes they got to packin', you know he bringing me pesos |
Invested in the trap but I still rock, that’s just to lay low (Aye, aye) |
Mix drugs with Faygo |
'Cause I still be livin' fast and hittin' licks and kicking doors |
Bitches hit my phone when I got cheese man I be mixin' hoes |
And I got designer Gucci, Prada, I be mixin' clothes |
50s and them 20s and them blue strips I be mixin' dough |
Blind to all that fuck shit must be why I keep a stick |
My shoes forever tied so you know I can never trip |
Ranch 'cause I be dressing straight designer, bitch I drip |
Crop him out the picture with this cannon on my hip |
And this cannon got a red dot |
Aim for headshots, cut his dreadlocks |
Hope he got his ID, 'cause his ass might get his head popped |
Better not, got a bread knot from that med drop |
Young but I be trappin' to them fiends who need them meds popped |
Young but I be trappin' to those fiends who need them meds popped |