war... - kuriosity lyrics
[intro]
(c’mon coupe, hop in)
no
[verse 1]
don’t talk, don’t run up
he try me, he run up, that n*gga get done up
they tryna compete, but my sh*t too cold
smoke this pack with your b*tch and my neck on froze
b*tch, we kicking in, kicking in doors
hope these n*ggas is ready, i’m ready for war
i’m off of that pack, yeah, my voice gettin ho*rs*
speeding off in that whip, put the b*tch in sport
man, i got all these bands, i be balling like i’m on the court
like why is she hitting my line? your b*tch is a wh0re
got that b*tch what she want and she love it
i ain’t start out with sh*t, turned nothing to something, woah
he keep talking, choppa get to bussing, oh
yeah, i want a problem, turn nothing to something, oh
don’t try running, it’s onе on one
you already saw too much, lil’ n*gga, you done
all thеse n*ggas keep riding my d*ck and i don’t give a f*ck
smith & wesson on me and that sh*t finna buss
keep the glock in my pocket if that n*gga thinking he tough
hit that boy for like five bands, put like five in if he thinking he tough
my n*ggas gon’ shoot when i say so
if he missing his target, he off of the payroll
i’m sending my boy, your boy better lay low
yeah, i’m counting the guap, i’m counting the paper
yeah, i’m sippin that purp’ and i’m sitting in the back smoking green with your b*tch
why this p*ssy n*gga coughing up off one hit?
made a k, yeah, a k in a day and i took it and flipped it, making it, counting up digits
take a look at my figures, i got me like seven
p*ssy boy talking back, send that boy to the reverend
n*ggas only shoot back if i let them
n*ggas talk down, send ’em to heaven
[verse 2]
woah, you should already know
lil’ b*tch, i’m the g.o.a.t
yeah, i run it up, run it up, run it some more
i add me a one, and a one, and a one, and a one, it’s four
pour me a four and i pour me some more
she ain’t sucking no d*ck, kick that b*tch out the door
yeah, i ride with the choppa, the choppa, the k
they like, “where is you at?” b*tch, i’m getting the k’s
i ain’t smokin your sh*t, yeah, that sh*t be laced
don’t ask me for a feat’, get it out of my face
keep a ak*47 and it spray
we shoot at his head, we hitting his brain
them p*ssy ass n*ggas them n*ggas i hate
fell in love with my choppa, take it on a date, ugh
choppa make a n*gga stand up
i don’t wanna hear talk, i don’t wanna hear banter
yeah, i’m mixing that drink with my fanta
yeah, i’m f*cking that b*tch with my hands up
put a hole in his head, ’cause he ran up
like why you act tough? lil’ b*tch, you dumb
hit that boy with the glock, it’s one on one
hit that boy wit the k, it’s one on one
[bridge]
like okay, hold up, where the f*ck is the 808?
call up coupe and told ’em bring the bass in
these bum ass n*ggas, on god, i hate them
he talking that sh*t, hit ’em up for like five bands
do this sh*t on my own, don’t n0body know my plan
i had a old b*tch, i don’t need her
got two guns on me, two guns on me
keep me a zack and a cody
[verse 3]
yeah, keep me a .40
that sh*t on my waist, my n*ggas be ready to go
you don’t even know me
but i know your b*tch, she sucking me and giving me throat
all the racks, all the racks on the floor
got me a band and i got me some more
yeah, i’m f*cking your b*tch, yeah, i’m f*cking your wh0re
if boy got a problem, we going to war
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