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top shotta - 15th cole lyrics

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[intro]
gangosquad

turn me up in the headphones
shoutout bro and em’ (mhm)
bout’ ready to go hard as sh*t
let’s go, look

[verse 1: 15th cole]
i got a top shotta, uziantte
model b*tch with me, came off the runway
money flashbacks keep coming like replays
pull up in porsche’s, we with the horseplay
three on the dash, it really goes fast
pull up with tens, two fives at subway
shorties keep checking me out like a survey
pull up with knifes, but we longshot no melee
that b*tch with the brain, no studies
pull off with her and a buddy
say he got wax, i got honey
big dog, you a lil’ hush puppy
double cup, eyes low vision blurry
skinny, skinny, my pockets big tubby
pretty girl off schеduled ones, she is a druggiе
hit from the back with no hands, then i duggie
my b*tch from out west, freddy gibbs thugging
stupid b*tch demon, the uzi she clutching
cali afghan too fly, i got wingspan
they fruit of looms, big jam i got big brands
slap a p*ssy with my mo’f*cking backhand
march, march, march, i got them big bands
netflix and chill f*ck that i got on*demand
pack touched down now it’s my time to land
deadman wonderland, wonderland, wonderland
sh*tting on em’ pull up captain underpants
in the big leagues, you missin’ them underhands?
paper route, my pockets a newstand
born in 01′ but i’m always fifteen
she want to ride, long no limousine
playing? get hung up, ain’t talking dry*clean
all i see money, money just like eugene
caffeine
slump in the clouds, blue dream
dropped charges my lawyer, goldstein
my b*tches got b*tches, yeah epstein
party at the crib, bring the whole team
my feet bleeding red, big fourteen
seven round laser beam, glisten gleam
the game is off balanced b*tch, i’m the balance (beam, b*tch)
[bridge 1: 15th cole}
balance, balance, balance, balance, balance
now i’m kicking, in a palace, palace, palace
(uhh) check my status, status, status, status (ayy, ayy)

[verse 2: uziantte]
(ayy, ayy, it’s uziantte)
wake up in the p*ssy, i tell her “good morning”
she go in the kitchen, and cook me some breakfast
i’m getting the cheese in the back of the foreign
[?] like i’m young and i’m reckless
howdy, imma bust down a brick
hoes be mad stacking money like tetris
shot at his ass, he ran straight out his sketchers
(foreign so fast, the cops cannot catch us)
i ain’t need no hoes, they get on my nerves
baby i’m a pimp, i’m good with my words
my young*in gone leave you leaking on the curb
if i seen you before, than you cannot get served
imma rob yo’ ass because yo’ mama just told me you ain’t a real gangsta
you just tryna get friends, you just tryna be famous, n*gga you a fake gangsta (yeah)
[?]
i never had sh*t so i stunt
i just came back from england
i made three thousand in a month (flex)
got 2 versace socks on, while i’m having s*x
i just want to have twenty thousand dollars worth of ice on my neck
(ayy, ayy, it’s uziantte)

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