spicelatians 3:32 - krispylife kidd lyrics
[intro: krispylife kidd]
krispylife
(d*mn, glo, you k!lled this one)
like that
[verse 1: krispylife kidd]
i’m out there in the water, like a coast guard
the smoke i’m giving these n*ggas free, no charge
these n*ggas down like my phone, it ain’t got no charge
call you young boys “tootie fruities”, y’all is not hard
hold on, i don’t think i wanna say it like that
i don’t wanna cuddle, just put my thing in her
she been a notorious hoe, but i put my faith in her
you in a scat, i’m in a ‘cat, yeah, we race different
i got 50, you got 10, yeah, we pay different
i’ll never tell, that’s why my case finished
shrimp and steak for me, you like mickey d’s, our taste different
i don’t like having 5’s or 10’s, my roll got a limit
the only time you hate is when you see me with a lot of women
i’m tryna stay focused, i’m in a big baggy
n*ggas better get right or get hit with [?]
i’m really goat, and these n*ggas’ step daddy
was with my son and seen a opp and roped off the pep rally
i’m sick these n*ggas got 5, and they braggin’
if i had 5, i wouldn’t even show my family
i wouldn’t even, hold on, i don’t wanna say it like that no more, look
i don’t think these n*ggas know how i’m bomin’
hire a hitman from jerusalem, he’ll whack you for a plate of hummus
my n*gga bought a bowl with a roll of fake hundreds
i ain’t your average n*gga, so i can’t go clubbing
old girl can’t spend the night unless she f*cking
i don’t wanna go to no party, i’ll pop your cousin
low*key, i don’t need no cosign, i’m top 5
last time i tripped, was with mike on “monetized”
[verse 2: rmc mike]
b*tch (d*mn, glo, you k!lled this one)
my n*gga yn jay the coochie man, i’m the kitty master
n*gga, f*ck a four for four, i’m a biggy [?]
sip so much lean, i think i need a kidney transplant
spice talking made me thirty thousand off of cash app
in a booth, high off perc’ 30s, couldn’t find the mic
told girly hop off my d*ck, she wasn’t ridin’ it right
i was on the road at 16 with no kind of license
spirit f*cked around and lost my bag and i robbed the pilot
40 million streams in a year, yeah, that’s kinda priceless
finna do a show overseas, i gotta fly to iceland
i be chasing cake everyday, but without the icing
the headhunter, b*tch suck my d*ck with a lot of excitement
the city ours, ain’t no cap, when i’m on the beat
ran up a check through quarantine, i’m corona free
this b*tch want j. alexander, i bought her corned beef
my n*gga want a eighth of wock, i mixed it with a 4 of green
d*mn, that’s some dirty sh*t
p.o. came with a drug test, bro had dirty p*ss
we can’t conversate if your watch only a 36
5 in the mornin’, makin’ plays, i had a early shift
i ain’t even wanna speak but d*mn, girly thick
her breath stank, she tryna suck my d*ck with some dirty spit
dr. dolittle, b*tch, i could make a birdy flip
42 millimeter, on my james worthy sh*t
kick my b*tch off the road, she a bad driver
bro made a, out them stores, you can ask meijer
freaky n*gga, i done hit more b*tches than quagmire
a n*gga tried to get the ups on me, but it backfired
[verse 3: babytron]
aye
aye, aye, aye, aye
shoot down to beecher (d*mn, glo, you k!lled this one)
aye
shoot down to beecher, then i’m linkin’ up with gang and ’em
chopstick slam him on his head, like kurt angle ‘nem
got a thousand visas on me, f*ck around and make an m
for the young money, up the drac’, feel like wayne and ’em
kidd and mike eating wendy’s, i’m at benihana
.223 slam dunk on ’em, i called this semi honest
designer kick fetish, f*ck around balenciaga
all that tough sh*t and big talk but i bet we rob him
boy, you smoking mid, that sh*t barely toxic
mike tripping off the runtz, i had to sprinkle larry on it
let your b*tch throw the p*ssy at me, i’ma barry bonds it
all that pics with that glock .40, i smell the scary on him
i rock virgil and dior, yes, i’m a fancy guy
bought your b*tch burberry undies, to put my hands inside
this 100 rounds, it hits who you standing by
finna buy a street in detroit and name it “scammer drive”
b*tch, i’m knowing i’m the man inside
finna take a trip to la, watch the lambo fly
put a hundred on the dash, i ain’t used to have no rides
listen, b*tch, this sh*t simple, you just jam and slide
if i catch him in that rust bucket, he gon’ crash his ride
i heard her boyfriend mad, what, you mad she mine?
cut into the worker on the plane, b*tch, i asked for sprite
i’ma ham her, i’m a scammer
ride around with hammers, shoot this b*tch like it’s a camera
heard you smokin’ [?] b*tch, turtle pie, b*tch, i’m on saturn
footwork margiela, i got paint work with the splatter
catch a opp in traffic, punch his window till it shatter
stan need to chill, .30 shotter make him scatter
gang
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