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​who couldnt - ​kynlary lyrics

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[verse]
twin just hop out, gle
i’m in the red, we’ll blow you see
smokin on cookie, smoke in our hemi
boy talk down, we gon chop off some limb
glock 19, i do what i have to
shi get wicked, n*gga get blammed
split off your wig, we’ll shoot up, iran
big boy truck, gun came wit some titties
bad lil hoe got glocks, we’re wit it
g19, my twin not missin’
hit that hoe from the back
sorry hannah, i will not be trippin’
i’m always here in the back
gle yah, my twin be whippin’
be on the south side with twin and siah
d*mn, jordai got the new messiah
switch, switch, hit a face
ku klux yeah, gon’ shoot out the ks
hop out the benz, drum ya wit the lens
diamonds (yuh), cartier lens
i promisе ya, jus f*cked on her friend
walk in thе kickback, purple’s the jeans
d*mn, my hoe got the k*sube jeans
brand new js with amiri, your jeans
walk in celine, they test who i am
big*balled draco, send you to h*ll
glock 19, took the body in the well
n*gga keep shootin’, he shoot out the sh*lls
n*gga be hoeing, they really be cappin’
fn sayin’ they really be tellin’
straight out the dome and straight out the belly
be with big dogs, i be with big fellas
bagged that hoe, is you rather jealous
free my twin, he stuck, it ain’t right
n*ggas be d*ckridin’, d*ck ride bikes
then i f*ck they hoes in the cayenne
ela cla, bands be right
boy got hit, he thought he was alright
f*ck bout a b*tch, ain’t totin on nun
jump out the clave, they talm bout “who coming?”
d*mn, my twin came out wit drip
girl a lil vibe, you’ll fw the clique
nih got a prob, we’ll beef, so what?
7.62, rip out the guts
[refrain]
*belly
be with big dogs, i be with big fellas
bagged that hoe, is you rather jealous
free my twin, he stuck, it ain’t right
n*ggas be d*ckridin’, d*ck ride bikes
then i f*ck they hoes in the cayenne
ela cla, bands be right
boy got hit, he thought he was alright
f*ck bout a b*tch, ain’t totin on nun
jump out the clave, they talm bout “who coming?”
d*mn, my twin came out wit drip
girl a lil vibe, you’ll fw the clique
nih got a prob, we’ll beef, so what?
7.62, rip out the guts

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