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this feeling - 04sam lyrics

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(oh woah)
got my hands on ur waist
get this feeling inside when i stare at ur face
if u leave, not that guy like how dare would i chase
he get hit wit a round now he gon need a brace
she say she wanna f*ck to the sound of the bass
send my shooters in there my blood hounds in yo place
didn’t fw that guy so his ounce was just shake (tell that b*tch im like)
huh when i walk in im smellin like dank
sh*t im smoking so strong think the za doing planks
kno my guys running deep some my boys hit the flank
b*tch im rly out trapping u sit and u w*nk
free my bro out the cage scr*pe the ground with a shank
little bro we can’t match i got pounds u got rank
i dont fw the tellers ‘less we at the bank
n im feeling like ye gave my brodie a tank
yeah, n its f*ck ur ex that boy a burger
yeah i got like 4 phones n i still keep a burner
d*mn my shawty so fine feel like i dont deserve her
sippin bottles like babies im sippin on gerber
yeah i c god off the lucy
stick wit one now when ill blow [up] theyll all use me
n im rly that guy i b juggin the qps
dont say that u know me lil bro cuz u knew me

b*tch.. u dont know me now (dont know me now!)
so u can pipe ur ass down (pipe ur ass down!)
swear i walk in im reeking of loud
we gon run up in yo crib take the tris it ain’t found
i dont cap in my raps i just cap w that gown
yeah ik where he lives he get slapped in his town
got a green shirt on, he got tapped now its brown
and that girl say she wan see the trap if im down (if im down, if im down!)

yeah my jacket its mink
u put ack in ur drink
u gon nod off n throw up, go out sad when yall link
n im smoking on gas on that thrax so i stink (on the thrax so i stink)

ik they’ll be mad if they left me
cuz im going to the top and ur dumbass got left in the past
yeah ur music is trash yeah it hefty
yeah these rappers is addicts they up in they room smoking glass
hotbox the valet gon hop in
said what i smoke so u kno what im coughin
i ain’t goin out broke put diamonds on the coffin
n im not im there but u know that im poppin (oh, oh, oh)
yeah u get popped like a cyst
do donuts in the stang b*tch this stick and we drift
if u wanna try me got the glock on my hip
b*tch i stay wit my boys send a shot then we dip

(oh woah)
got my hands on ur waist
get this feeling inside when i stare at ur face
if u leave, not that guy like how dare would i chase
he get hit wit a round now he gon need a brace
she say she wanna f*ck to the sound of the bass
send my shooters in there my blood hounds in yo place
didn’t fw that guy so his ounce was just shake (tell that b*tch im like)
huh when i walk in im smellin like dank
sh*t im smoking so strong think the za doing planks
kno my guys running deep some my boys hit the flank
b*tch im rly out trapping u sit and u w*nk
free my bro out the cage scr*pe the ground with a shank
little bro we can’t match i got pounds u got rank
i dont fw the tellers ‘less we at the bank
n im feeling like ye gave my brodie a tank

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