mr sheeen - digga d x russ millions lyrics
mr sheeen lyrics
[intro]
gotcha
[verse 1: digga d]
slide in whips, slide in six
they wanna slide in dm’s
pr*cks, them boy there punks
can’t wait ’till i see ’em, see ’em
they know about pain like liam
his gm got done in the pm (chinged)
pree him, they just wanna meet and greet them
leave them, i just wanna meet and beat ’em
i’m at the cash point waiting for addicts
it’s 12 o’clock at night, when the giro comes
i’m there with the package, trappin’
feds tryna stop me from rappin’
mad ting, i don’t wanna hear that chattings (you know)
they had me in the dock, sweatin’, stressin’
chatting ’bout shooting and stabbings
has*beens and washed up guys get patterned
[chorus: digga d & russ]
.44 long, .32’s and dot*dots
bare smoke in the room, not hotbox
jailhouse ting, that’s hash on hotbox
jailhouse ting, tuna and hot pots
like, baby stop it
dotty too long, man cop then chop it
talk about trap but you make no profit
made history, gun lean, can’t top it
i went ’round with the skeng on f
and came back with the skeng on e (bu*boom)
now i’ve gotta fill it with sh*ll, no petty, this semi*auto
ain’t fully auto, ain’t clean
pull up and spray like mr sheen
this handting ain’t got a beam
but i greased her down, now she slaps off clean
[verse 2: digga d]
digga d, i’m a well known bandit, bandit
two got hit with one
could’ve been a double m like mixtape madness (bu*boom)
can’t wait ’till me and them link up
pull up at drink ups, letting off handting’s
side by side in the ride, no rampin’
that’s five guys with chings, ay crampin’ (ching)
i play too much black ops 2
and do more than you bro, what is your rankin’?
had mans bae on a vizzy and calling my tizzy
while doing up w*nkin’ (haha)
in the t with b, man’s vampin’, pantin’
dust up jakes in the landing, tanned him
buss that case, outstandin’ (gang)
should i chill or k!ll? one foot out but still one hand in
[chorus: digga d & russ]
.44 long, .32’s and dot*dots
bare smoke in the room, not hotbox
jailhouse ting, that’s hash on hotbox
jailhouse ting, tuna and hot pots
like, baby stop it
dotty too long, man cop then chop it
talk about trap but you make no profit
made history, gun lean, can’t top it
i went ’round with the skeng on f
and came back with the skeng on e (bu*boom)
now i’ve gotta fill it with sh*ll, no petty, this semi*auto
ain’t fully auto, ain’t clean
pull up and spray like mr sheen
this handting ain’t got a beam
but i greased her down, now she slaps off clean
[verse 3: russ]
i don’t wanna hear about them man
when they hear skengs bang, run off with ten man (dash)
talk, talking a lot on live chat
can’t wait to sight man, boy you ain’t like that
hidin’, i’m up front, they’re right back
despite that, pull up at gaffs then light that
hijack any man’s gyal and pipe that
my bad, broski come get your wife back (come get her)
man talk crud from a distance
go tell the fans what i done to your siblings, fishin’ (splash)
most of the opps been swimmin’
six in this spin so you know i ain’t missing (bow)
active, don’t mad me, get splashed
this dotty inhale mans frass
headshot gang, release my shank
ain’t on p*ss, them boy are just jank
[chorus: digga d & russ]
.44 long, .32’s and dot*dots
bare smoke in the room, not hotbox
jailhouse ting, that’s hash on hotbox
jailhouse ting, tuna and hot pots
like, baby stop it
dotty too long, man cop then chop it
talk about trap but you make no profit
made history, gun lean, can’t top it
i went ’round with the skeng on f
and came back with the skeng on e (bu*boom)
now i’ve gotta fill it with sh*ll, no petty, this semi*auto
ain’t fully auto, ain’t clean
pull up and spray like mr sheen
this handting ain’t got a beam
but i greased her down, now she slaps off clean
[verse 4: russ]
i’m cheeky and bad
i’m like twenty two with two hundred bags (bags)
don’t get the kid mad, the mach*ine get grabbed
i roll up and bang, bang
splash it, everyone knows what i’m on
who’s next? most of my opps been done
all my old friends are jokes
same way, anything b get smoked
badman far when badman pull up
skengs on deck boy, don’t get cook up
russ with the rush, bredrin still up
six figure nig’, still making mula
everyone’s garn’ make everyone leave
hold this arm, she takin’ this d
if suttin’ gets dropped, carry on this beef
come f*ck with a t’ug cah your man ain’t the chief
[chorus: digga d & russ]
.44 long, .32’s and dot*dots
bare smoke in the room, not hotbox
jailhouse ting, that’s hash on hotbox
jailhouse ting, tuna and hot pots
like, baby stop it
dotty too long, man cop then chop it
talk about trap but you make no profit
made history, gun lean, can’t top it
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