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wtf 2.0 - c1 x dt lyrics

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ayo eh, sauce it up

[verse 1: dt]
nothing like kane when the waps get raisin’
he got dipped like he had no papers
he got bun, started harlem shakin’
it’s mad, i still have stains on my stainless
hands in the air, like i might go ravin’ (woi)
took shots now his [?] is wasted (woi*oi)
we had all guns blazin’
rubbed out cah’ the mandem erased him
i had me a vision like that’s so raven
he got a ching, but he weren’t no asian (ying it, ying it)
put his face on the papers
it’s blatant, we made your’ bestfriend famous
federal nightmares, scarеd of the bacon
when i hear sirеns my heartbeat’s racin’ (f*ck)
free the guys on the wing
[?] using a makeshift

[verse 2: c1]
(lt)
listen up, nutnut’s p*ssed, cah’ perm’s in the mud
axel’s p*ssed, cah timmy turned skunk
crose’s p*ssed, cah’ skeng turned runtz (uh*oh)
it’s sad, it’s f*cked
i don’t know ’bout them, but i know ’bout us
ptsd get spun by govs’
we scream out “yea” and we scream out “love” (yea)
i was with g41, corn got flung
solomon died and his older’s rubbed (haha)
stegz got done, he was cattin’ for russ
revenge is a must, but nothing for stuttz (no)
out on the hill where the opps don’t come (no)
foot got cooked he was outside drunk (bow)
they ain’t done sh*t since 4+1
[verse 3: dt]
try roll on the gang let it spray like lynx (lynx)
mind out like [?]
still ride out with the bine out the whip
can’t lie down, take the bine out of your’ skin (d*mn)
he got hit with the twix
got knifed down, then he signed out like a b*tch
got striked down, made him slide out of the pitch
press the .9 three times, we ain’t callin’ [?] (boi*boi)

[verse 4: c1]
we should’ve never went to the b
but it’s cool, pj still f*cked as we speak (huh)
.44 corn comin’ like jb
i ain’t gotta’ talk, i ain’t gotta preach (safe)
what you gonna do when the 4*door skreech?
back*doors poppin’, you best run like neenz (skrr)
ever seen a g17 with a beam? (brr)
what’s it like on the losing team?
ask lb, rb got done times three
konez got smoked like craze and squeeze
the whole block got shot it weren’t by jv (lt)
ying it, rip up the nike tech fleece
air out bine then duck from the scene
another one dropped, unlimited dreams
they’re all tired of the shotgun sneeze (bow*bow)
[verse 5: dt]
i know the opps can’t fathom (no)
we make it clap in clapham
bro backed it, tapped it, slapped it
[?] took flight like aladin (boy)
throwin’ up c*s, cuz’ it’s car they’re crashin’
they throw w*s, cah’ they’re lost little w*nkers
like my hammer don’t leave bine
[?] like a drum when the corn starts bangin’ (boy)

[verse 6: c1]
i smoke worma straight to the dome
creep up gang like slim did
fans wanna’ stop for snaps and pictures
jailhouse, i had my name on the gymlist (lol)
i don’t know nothing ’bout ropes
i don’t know what he thought, but it’s not what he hoped (safe)
bally up, ready up, let’s roll (let’s go)
got no assist by konez (hah)

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