starbckzz - dys davinci lyrics
[chorus: dys davinci]
i be chilling with all the deads, be booling with frank the most
and yo shooter just lost his head, hit his a brain now he comatose
and i count cash on caffeine, we eating, need me a toast
i’m a fiend for all of the green, i love the rolls, let’s see if it smoke
[verse 1: k!llthree]
hundred rounds, we shoot your chest, lil’ n*gga you not coming home
i feel like danny phantom, n*gga, feeling like a ghost
your b*tch, she at my crib and she wanna give me throat
i call my glocky “mr. it” ‘cause this .40 make you float
these n*ggas tried to steal my flow, these n*ggas tryna run up, bro
i got my stick, i let it blow, your b*tch, she on my d*ck and throat
i can’t f*ck with no hoe, my glock kiss, mistletoe
sipping lean, poured a four, spilling lean on the floor
[chorus: dys davinci]
i be chilling with all the deads, be booling with frank the most
and yo shooter just lost his head, hit his a brain now he comatose
and i count cash on caffeine, we eating, need me a toast
i’m a fiend for all of the green, i love the rolls, let’s see if it smoke
apx on my body, i got a arm if i see your hand
i can smoke you, then smoke exotic
boy, that bl!ck gon’ give you a tan
and i’m high on autopilot, don’t think that i’m gon’ land
and i heard that n*gga shiesty, don’t wan’ work, don’t give him a chance
[verse 2: k!llthree]
bossed up in j*pan, n*gga, you ain’t got no hands
your b*tch, she wanna hold my d*ck, you know she rocking on some vans
n*gga, i’ma shoot the block up, better check up on your mans
that boy a hoe, boy, he know d*mn well that he ain’t getting no bands
i got a stick, no harry potter, we gon’ put you in a trance
i’m like “why your b*tch hit up my phone?”, yeah she my biggest fan
sipping, tripping on that percocet with henny in my hand
you gon’ talk sh*t when i have this stick and shoot it at your mans
[bridge: bbyshoota]
hugh hefner, all my b*tches tens, she wan’ f*ck as friends
she wan’ love me, she wan’ love me ‘til the end, not again
all my b*tches feel my love, they know i used to flip dubs
uk shooter look like chubbs, starbucks cup to pour me up
[chorus: dys davinci]
i be chilling with all the deads, be booling with frank the most
and yo shooter just lost his head, hit his a brain now he comatose
and i count cash on caffeine, we eating, need me a toast
i’m a fiend for all of the green, i love the rolls, let’s see if it smoke
apx on my body, i got a arm if i see your hand
i can smoke you, then smoke exotic
boy, that bl!ck gon’ give you a tan
and i’m high on autopilot, don’t think that i’m gon’ land
and i heard that n*gga shiesty, don’t wan’ work, don’t give him a chance
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