lirikcinta.com
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

blitz - bag szn lyrics

Loading...

[verse 1: bag szn]
boy better not play with my sack, i’ll send the blitz on him
5.56s in the clip, blue tips on ’em
i just pulled my d*ck out, made your b*tch put her lips on it
i think i fell in love with the percs, they got a grip on me
i’ll really pull up in an ‘eater with some slips on me
my other b*tch blowin’ up my phone, now my b*tch trippin’
the zaz’ got me talkin’ with a slur, i’m f*ckin’ up my sentences
every n*gga with me gon’ shoot, we the new pistons

[verse 2: grindhard e]
if you see me dolo in a car, ain’t got one heat, i got a few with me
i’m still taxin’ for the drank, i want two*fifty
movin’ militant when i go and slide, my n*ggas move with mе
hundred shots on the k, don’t need ’em all, might only shoot fifty
ridin’ with thе glock on my lap, f*ck the trunk
if it’s beef, catch a n*gga out and throw him in the trunk
n*gga tried to dive in the water that he— ah
n*gga tried to dive in the water that we in and he sunk

[verse 3: bag szn]
nah, i ain’t comin’ here with kidd, but the ‘fit crispy
i paid three hundred for my zip, you paid a buck*fifty
if he ain’t got no cheese or no glock, he probably not with me
on probation for the glock, but you stupid, you think it ain’t with me
this broke n*gga think he f*ckin’ with me, must be off whitney
this n*gga e drink eights every day, how he got kidneys?
i got b*tches thinkin’ it’s my birthday, i got that cake with me
my n*gga said it’s money on the floor, i brought a rake with me
[verse 4: grindhard e]
you would know if i f*ck with you or not, i can’t be fake friendly
gotta use my hands, the money counted jammed, it took me eight minutes
i just found a new pop ain’t never seen, i put drank in it
all my dirty money turned legit, i scammed the bank with it
i’m tryna f*ck you with my b*tch, i don’t kiss and tell, baby, your secrets safe with me
i leveled up, you won’t see me with a b*tch that ain’t pretty
my outfit cost a lot, just the shoes i got on eight*fifty
if you ain’t talkin’ ’bout no pape’, end of discussion, i won’t take you serious

[verse 5: bag szn]
talk a b*tch out the head ’cause she on her period
slapped my b*tch in her mouth just for sayin’, “period”
i done popped out with bands in this— huh
i done popped out with bands in this b*tch, got these n*ggas curious
seventeen hundred for these cartis, b*tch, ask the jeweler
b*tch, i’m finna drop some new ice, diamonds singin’ like pooter
i’m in love with the glocks, my b*tch got a ruger
it’s only top shelf when i smoke, you blowin’ on some hookah

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular

Loading...