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fie bars - fat nick lyrics

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[verse 1]
dyk- b-tch go two ways, fast lane on freeways
chopper grip that sk, double hit in broad day
dump the clip like foreplay, blizzy shots on cold days
loading dope and getting paid, pistol vision no getting sprayed
moving how i’m working, pistol grip the fire jerking
got my shooters out here lurkin’
just my sign and they be murkin’
they bought camos steady cloakin’
they so big we coast to coastin’
he alive and then he dead
just like magic, hocus pocus
p-ssy b-tch can’t run my sh-t
a 100 bands i counterfeit
remix your drink you sip that sh-t
extendo clip i’m hitting sh-t
stupid b-tch my nut she spittin’
sloppy thot i don’t do kissin’
all this lean, my mind stay spinnin’
house of dope, these swishers twistin’

[verse 2]
jug the trap my bands, they dance
like middle east and african
you smoking up free smoking dope
are love it way more higher man
call the plug i need it now, i don’t do no middle man
i don’t date no sloppy b-tch and i won’t f-ck a normal b-tch
xanax make me hot as f-ck
buffet boys b-tch we poppin’ off
all these hoes we swappin’ off
you do me wrong we choppin’ off
stupid b-tch go knock it off, swallow me then walk it off
all this d-mn promethazine i swear i’ll never ever cough
flexing like a p-ssy b-tch
these two four fours gon’ hit you quick
f-ck the mouth, i’m nutting quick
gon’ hit your chest just like some vicks
my shooters scoring like the knicks
hi-tech brick, remix your sh-t
you drinking it and loving it, i count this guap and double it
always up i’m poppin’, smoking till its nothin’
all my pints in coffins, if we dump we hitting somethin’
all our shows be bustin’, start mosh pits we get to jumpin’
30 on me know i’m drummin’, they gon’ smash no bluffin’

[verse 3]
f-ck these hoes, no cuffin’, pop a rocket, now he runnin’
she suck my d-ck so good but then she acting like she nunnin’
all my squad got hunnits, lean, it got my kidneys drownin’
brand new coupe i’m skrrtin’, flavored swishers what i’m burnin’
cup this drank i’m clonin’ s-x, your b-tch i got her moanin’
she gon’ top me, and gon’ f-ck me
yeah this thottie always choking
i ain’t joking, blunts we rolling
fat nick’s jug school started rolling
p-ssy b-tches twitter trolling
f-ck these feds that be patrolling
f-ck, jug hard, f-ck school
i be trapping like a fool
my name so big, ten toes, i’m screwed
don’t love a b-tch the only rule
pocket rocket make ’em snooze
my money up i never lose
slumping off a double deuce, red hi-tech that’s satan juice
blast ’em with a forty-five, make ’em run a four five
if i catch a opp, bet i hit him and he gon’ die
giussepe steppin’, act i’m sippin’
pocket rocket never missin’
foreign cars we steady whippin’
global baby we smoke different

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