LETRA
Use A− / A+ para ajustar a leituraKamikaze
I got Hitman on the beatHavokondabeat, bitchBig steppin', they don't do nothin', I ain't worriedYeah, man, they dyin' on the curbYeah, they die, then ain't worried, lookLook, niggas cliquin' up like hoesPull up and I'm strapped down with a lotta polesYou better have your flagif that's the game you chose (Let's go)You better hit the gas and get your name alone (Bitch)Nigga, this is a TEC-9 (Pew, pew, fah, fah)Pull up at the right time, let the window down (Rrah, rrah)We gon' bang out, we gon' bang outyou won't fuck with slimeI leave that paint out at your name output your name onlineI say that list that put them bodies straight up in a dayYoung nigga look like kamikaze, might die to get you murkedCheck out my pants, check out my shirtWas tucked up and come with a burseIf they up in, we come and searchNext time we spin, you gon' get murkedYou scared to take your ass to churchAnd can't no pastor stop no headshotOut the window with that red-dot, shooter sped offKnocked out, that bitch head offI'm the murder man (Pew, pew, bah, bah)No time for playin', this Glock come with a burstBitch, try anythingNigga, this that Squid GameBitch, I make 'em cop outWhen you catch him, let that six hangBet he gon' get knocked offWe gon' bang out, we gon' bang out, ain't no standin' downWe let that stick off from the streetwhile your family 'roundIf you beef, my bodies creep upFire from the Glock put you to sleepI'm in the Bayou, in the seatBig slimes petite, we wet your feetWe bang your curb, bitch, play with meBitch, they gon' bury you in a weekYou know I be fuckin' all them streamsI love to hear the chopper speakNigga, this is a TEC-9 (Pew, pew, fah, fah)Pull up at the right time, let the window down (Rrah, rrah)We gon' bang out, we gon' bang outyou won't fuck with slimeI leave that paint out at your name output your name onlineI say that list that put them bodies straight up in a dayYoung nigga look like kamikaze, might die to get you murkedCheck out my pants, check out my shirtWas tucked up and come with a burseIf they up in, we come and searchNext time we spin, you gon' get murkedAnd I had to grow up, I was talkin' out the bloodStrapped down in the truck, doped up, bitchTime to shoot up the scene, Glock 17no lemon squeeze and no switchI'ma make you scream right off the batI up the Gat' so don't flinchCan't get this monkey off my backI'm poppin' pills with dopin'Never gave the world a TEC-9, fuck a haterbitch it's my timeBeen havin' thoughts on slangin' ironsince my big brother Day diedCertified stepper 'bout minecome off the top with that ironUp out my motherfuckin' mind, son, they gon' die by my fireI beat the block 'til I die, no sense in growin' upI keep tryin'I got my flag, I'm throwin' signs behind enemy linesControl the gas, the one who drivin'bang that red, he a slimeGot low eyes, but still don't try meI'm strapped and ready right now, nigga, ahNigga, this is a TEC-9 (Pew, pew, fah, fah)Pull up at the right time, let the window down (Rrah, rrah)We gon' bang out, we gon' bang outyou won't fuck with slimeI leave that paint out at your name output your name onlineI say that list that put them bodies straight up in a dayYoung nigga look like kamikaze, might die to get you murkedCheck out my pants, check out my shirtWas tucked up and come with a burseIf they up in, we come and searchNext time we spin, you gon' get murked, bitchI got Hitman on the beatHavokondabeat, bitch
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