187 - ftl_sol lyrics
doc pop of wiyf:
eyes set on this corvette, 13 for the ticket
i’m trying to get it, sh-t i’m finna get it, cuz i’m finna get it, yes i’ma be with it n-gga
is you with it, or are you a critic?
you can get dismissed for f-cking with digits, you dig it?
this trill sh-t, admit it n-gga, tired of poor pimping
that’s why i’m changing up positions, ’94 ‘vette with the pistons
with two seats, fit four in it, get your b-tch to f-ck all my n-ggas
when i get right i’ma take care of all my n-ggas, one call my n-gga, end it all my n-gga
live raw my n-gga, ready for war my n-gga, afghan in the blunt or the raw my n-gga
187, samuel jackson
it’s a target on your jacket let me know what’s happening
it don’t matter where you at n-gga they still got axes
little known fact, perfect don’t come from practice
187, samuel jackson
it’s a target on your jacket let me know what’s happening
it don’t matter where you at n-gga they still got axes
little known fact, perfect don’t come from practice
yoaty of wiyf:
i’m at war with my vices, siphon ’em out
life is a garden and weeds gon sprout
but i bang, bang, bang, sugar cane in my mouth
what the f-ck you mean? get slain in the south
your b-tch in first chair? pipe in her mouth
politely but spitefully striking her spout
cuz you think you on, n-gga 187
molotov’s thrown til your soul’s released
i done gave you the seeds
now you can grow roses or you can grow weeds
it’s strictly your choice how you shall proceed
i done washed my hands let me drink o.e
i got plans to get loaded, riding on the low with a ho, i’m a pluck that lotus
finna pop that cork to all of them bottled emotions
sol:
23 years worth of dimes for my thoughts brah, and i got
23 years worth of crimes i ain’t been caught for, and i got
23 years worth silence i done thought of, and i got
n-ggas on the ring, if need be, to come see me discretely
elite team, smite a n-gga quick despite defeat, delete thee, talk or tweet beef
cuz talk is cheap, i bust a n-gga open like i’m on tv with paula deen
see i’m off the beat but i’m on my sh-t
walk 6’3 til i’m obsolete
you a common thief, a wannabe
generic as the pills at the pharmacy
him in gen. pop. like a comedy
corny to the grit, hominy
rocketry is my policy, quality parallel to my quant-ty
see the artistry is in harmony with the logic, which carries on constantly
i am longingly, you a novelty
this a homicide, you call police
before they done interrogating
i got a snowflake to fall through, and post a n-gga bond for me
i’m a molecule, they bond to me
is it the modesty or something bodily?
they call me boo, baby, i love you
majesty, or your sovereignty
i just sit back, relax, thrax out
practice on rolling this botany
doc pop:
187, samuel jackson
it’s a target on your jacket let me know what’s happening
it don’t matter where you at n-gga they still got axes
little known fact, perfect don’t come from practice
187, samuel jackson
it’s a target on your jacket let me know what’s happening
it don’t matter where you at n-gga they still got axes
little known fact, perfect don’t come from practice
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