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mariah carey - clavish lyrics

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[verse 1 * clavish]
how you still shot two*twos and tell girls that you’re moving
boxes of food? free my n*ggas that are locked in the room
you ain’t been no block with the broom
i’m on the o*p*p block, shots and a q
i was broke, n0body tried buss me a q
i put faith in my trap, no trust into you
put faith in myself, no trust into them
took a l but when i’m off tag, f*ckries again
uncle said he quit smoking, he a junkie again
now he can’t touch my food, he’ll probably suck me again
i know a gram girl, chanel shoes she’ll f*ck me for them
out of ten she a eight but i love me a ten
know a street nig’, he don’t really care about p’s
when he catches a m, richest n*gga on the streets
ain’t counted a ten, why you chilling with the fiends?
why you bagging up white? why you sitting round b?
put in work or make bread if you sitting round me
couple k!llers round me, if i’m lying i’m dying
i wake up in the a.m., send a text to my buyers
i push crack stones to crack fiends, god loves a trier
i drop n*ggas out if i hear they’re doing mariah
carey, i don’t care, we got guns with bine in
and she knows what it is when the seats are reclining
hood chicks wanna know if i got beef with the 9ers, no
started from the bottom but the top’s where i’m trying to go
my young’un always talking bout **, dying to go
the only time that he press smoke and your eyes will close
i buy my own guys, that’s why i’m not minding my tone
she wanna throw it back because
she said i’m too toxic, she wanna detox
i still make p*ssy n*ggas dust, no re*rock
no condom, i bet crash still make the ting beat off
cut through there all the time, i don’t see opps
ap boogers so big impossible to miss
used to re*up on a z, that’s the cost of my kicks
used to re*up on a fours, that’s the cost for the stick
times changed, now my left wrist cost me a brick
gun jakes behind, got a glock in the whip
shotty cost a chrome hearts jumper
pulling on her tracks when i’m hitting on the bumper
[verse 2 * teeway]
mummy say “you’re done for”, trident at the front door
grew up with a lot of p*ssys, now i gotta hunt four
c*ck it back, flung four, i stuff the load, i dump more
i kick them n*ggas out the ride if i see they’re unsure
and now we’re all five slanging, had his whole life hanging
why they tryna take away all the sh*t that mans planning
come up in the trap slangin’, auntie say “you’re g*ngb*nging”
and i ain’t in ot but i got old cats slangin’
broke down started banging, they ain’t bangin’ or they’re lyin’
the civilians crying, n*ggas on the floor dying
waiting while the crack drying, we been tryna bun fry him
police aiming hammers at me, “don’t shoot, i’m compliant”
uptown we ain’t lackin’, bae knows this sh*t brackin’
in the woods with bubba m, man this sh*t waps jammin’
twenty junk heads smacking, n*gga you don’t know trapping
half a brick going hatton, label meetings, no backing
he got soaked in his hat, a thousand stones for the mac, now where that biker
doing quick booms for them cats
all that mainroad banging, put the zones on the map
see him run for his life, but he got smoked in his back
in the trap with the chicken, and his times still tickin’
n*ggas love getting litty, we caught him lackin’ and lit him
drop neck t.t.s in that front room fitting
and when them car doors pop, we got grown men sh*ttin’
i put bine in my hood, i put smack by the beach
trident nicked me class a, ’cause them wraps in my reach
chef a n*ggas with my shaver i just slapped it in beach
n*ggas rap bout bangin’ but don’t practice their preach
i’m gettin’ bread by the hour, pull up, fed them the power
six holes in his skin, it makes sense why they’re sour
in a pyrex bowl i make coke take a shower
we got too many habads in that fifth block tower

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