la drankers - 2ski lyrics
[intro: ceo trayle]
ayy, ayy, let’s go
4
[verse 1: ceo trayle]
yeah, i just left the lean man house, finna spin back around and take him down
these n*ggas p*ssy, they feel safe around
let me know if that safe around
ayy, if you gettin’ some paper, i might stay around
ayy, six rings just like robert horry, i’m an la laker now
they just don’t know i’m finna turn this b*tch to capertown
i throw all the parties, get the problems straightened out
thirty clips be hangin’ out
ayy, ayy, b00bies on them 7.62s, boy, don’t make me take ’em out
d*cks on them gl!cks, n*gga, my chips quick
before you suck this d*ck, b*tch, wipe off that lipstick
your ex was on that shrimp sh*t
[verse 2: warhol.ss]
i can’t be your next, i see you tolerate that goofy sh*t
my lil’ ho from the d say she want d*ck and i say, “yeah, i’m hip”
scoreboard, it’s a blowout
walked inside this b*tch with two glocks, brought four out
it’s a bomb squad waitin’, they done heard i brought c4 out
i can’t stand no ho who ain’t got crazy mouth
i rock thousand*dollar jeans just to ash on ’em
i drive the scat’ like a truck, we gon’ smash on ’em
cuban link cost a n*gga coupe, check the clasp on it
red in my f*ckin’ cup like i got a rash on it
he say he a trap star, he just cap hard
thirty dollars spent on club pop, watch me make it dark
glock 9, call it iron man, b*tch, i’m tony stark
i done hit this ‘scotti way too hard, now i’m feelin’ parched
[verse 3: 2ski]
if crackin’ cards was a sport, n*gga, i’m the mvp (no cap)
it’s a thirty in this glock, ain’t no actin’ tough with me
all that starin’ in the club, that’s how he end up on a tee (bye*bye)
c4 said it’s on the floor, gang made a hundred in his sleep
he quick to take a n*gga out, turn an opp to make*believe (he gone)
spent a twenty on this kit, you n*ggas can’t compete with me
n*gga drinkin’ so much lean, think i’m havin’ wocky dreams (d*mn)
hit that lil’ ho from the back, think she feel it in her spleen
n*ggas had all that lil’ money, how the f*ck you drinkin’ green?
say she hate me off that drank, think a n*gga actin’ mean (sorry ’bout it)
boa came with thirty, know a n*gga wiped it clean
i be hatin’ all them twenties, i can’t fit ’em in my jeans
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