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russel westbrook - christ dillinger lyrics

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[verse 1: christ dillinger]
[?]

[verse 2: 83hades]
83
triple double like i’m russel westbrook
f*ck yo’ b*tch, i think we had the [?] shook
[?], put it on a tester
give me brain before i give a lecture
i’m ballin’ hard but i’m not on the court
you can pull up, me and christ in new york
[?] in the city, he end in the morgue
and i’m f*ckin that b*tch because she like my [?]
i rock designer sh*t, i rock [?]
i’m with [?] and he pourin’ a 4
shorty told me “don’t be shy, put some more”
i’m flyin’ out to [?]
he talkin’ sh*t then his life get shortened
shorty on me because i’m important
gut him up then sell his organs
[?]
[?] straight to yo’ doorstep
real plug sh*t, i [?] corvette’s
[?] coke, i can’t get no rest
[?], these come at yo’ chest
bullets fly [?]
pull out blades then i start pokin’
[verse 3: 83hades]
shorty, let me see what it is like up in that p*ssy
masked up like halloween, it got me takin’ all his goodies
you can’t see a thing, black jeans with a black hoodie
we [?] yo thing if you gettin’ run up by a goofy
i bring it in, even if i’m with yo’ shorty at the movies
you be scared of b*tches, almost like they finna give you cooties
le*let me grab that booty
just another day, another groupie
o*only care about the cash, you still prayin’ for the coochie
3 am, b*tch i’m still out sellin’ molly
like it’s d*ck*am, let me get up in that body
everybody backin’ up, [?] trippin’ in the party
everything i do is for a reason, no b*tch i ain’t sorry

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