give back - dee aura lyrics
evilgiane, surf gang b*tch!
and the b*tch come back when the bands come back
and the b*tch come back when them bands come back
and them n*ggas so mad cause they can’t get back
and i can’t trust n*ggas gotta watch my back
and that boy so broke but he tryna get back
and i ride through the bity yea, tryna get back
yeah imma sleaze in the back of the back
in the back of the bank yea finna cl!ck clack
for a pint of the tris, yea i’m finna tax tax
and i do sip wock but that sh*t really trash
you rockin’ with evolving public, on gang
in the back of the back yea i’m counting up racks
and she f*cking everybody like a b*tch count stacks
i was way too young, i ain’t sippin no ac
wide receiver, i be tossing the pack
you cross me, then i ain’t lookin back
don’t hold a grudge but i can’t let go
we slide on his foreign give him bullet holes
my shooter got afro like they from the homes
i’m counting up money waiting for the hoes
i’m sippin on drank she like let it go
i really put drank over hoes
my diamonds they water like a f*ckin hose
you ain’t talking money n*gga then it’s adios
and she shakin that ass, watch it overload
got 25k, walkin with a load
i’m waiting for smoke like a game loading
i’m all about green like a f*ckin toad
see word around town n*gga, that you told
i don’t got a fever but these diamonds cold
they know my story, n*gga, cause you told em
smokin’ on pressure
smokin on pressure
back to back foreigns just packing a jet
if i need me a perc i call up moh baretta
and the b*tch come back when the bands come back
and the b*tch come back when them bands come back
and them n*ggas so mad cause they can’t get back
and i can’t trust n*ggas gotta watch my back
and that boy so broke but he tryna get back
and i ride through the bity yea, tryna get back
yeah imma sleaze in the back of the back
in the back of the bank yea finna cl!ck clack
for a pint of the tris, yea i’m finna tax tax
and i do sip wock but that sh*t really trash
in the back of the back yea i’m counting up racks
and she f*cking everybody like a b*tch count stacks
i was way too young, i ain’t sippin no ac
wide receiver, i be tossing the pack
you cross me, then i ain’t lookin back
don’t hold a grudge but i can’t let go
we slide on his foreign give him bullet holes
my shooter got afro like they from the homes
i’m counting up money waiting for the hoes
i’m sippin on drank she like let it go
i really put drank over hoes
my diamonds they water like a f*ckin hose
you ain’t talking money n*gga then it’s adios
and she shakin that ass, watch it overload
got 25k, walkin with a load
i’m waiting for smoke like a game loading
i’m all about green like a f*ckin toad
see word around town n*gga, that you told
i don’t got a fever but these diamonds cold
they know my story, n*gga, cause you told em
smokin’ on pressure
smokin on pressure
back to back foreigns just packing a jet
if i need me a perc i call up moh baretta
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