memories of war - legaxy lyrics
started this sh*t now n*ggas wanna follow
n*gga want smoke so i gave the n*gga a hollow
his b*tch kept crying so i gave her ass the bottle
and i got gass like we just won the lotto
smoking on opps n*gga wanna rap about the glock
i’ll put his ass in a box so let’s send shots
he a running back with the glock
he’ll really act like he pop
ten bans in that wall and i ain’t even touch that
she got ass so i gotta touch that
he won’t last so i gotta f*ck that
so i hit the a gap then i gotta cut back
touchdown scores she in love with the goat
i’m in love with my music i don’t love on no hoe
started from the no now i made it to the bay
to f*ckin’ ahead no this ain’t for the race
no hе a b*tch he ain’t ready to go
you know he a b*tch hе ain’t upping the score
this ain’t a skit b*tch we ready for war
claim he a pit i’ll turn into vick like magic
no look and assist she don’t even know
she think it’s a skit f*ck the front door
we in the back in this b*tch skiz on the road
with bag full of l!cks
ready for war ain’t no flaws in my bars
and we don’t do no make believe we send him straight to the stars
and remember cold nights when sh*t really was hard
like sh*t ain’t even going right i reminisce though that part
ready for war ain’t no flaws in my bars
and we don’t do no make believe we send him straight to the stars
and remember cold nights when sh*t really was hard
like sh*t ain’t really going right i reminisce though
hate to lose but i love to win
something like the devil all i know is the f*ckin’ sin
locked up did a whole year in that f*ckin’ b*tch
young skiz fresh out the motherf*ckin’ pen just cop the zip
now it’s time to f*ckin’ flip gotta get this money b*tch
i gotta stack my f*ckin’ chips i ain’t never been a snitch
i ain’t never been a b*tch you can ask my whole cl!ck
n*gga ain’t switched left a n*gga wholly like some swish cheese
broke yo pockets now they empty
like we at dinner i need that f*ckin’ check pleases
so you know you gotta run it in f*ck making friends b*tch
i rather make them f*ckin’ bans b*tch
i need that money it will never end
till i’m riding in a foreign it’s a f*ckin’ benz
or i’m in that vet it go skirt skirt
put yo n*gga on a shirt cause
we riding by through your mother f*ckin’ block
what you know you opp n*gga watch you’ll get shot
i’ma motherf*ckin’ drop you
like this song n*gga i go nuts l like cashews
in the streets we watch you
ready for war ain’t no flaws in my bars
and we don’t do no make believe we send him straight to the stars
and remember cold nights when sh*t really was hard
like sh*t ain’t even going right i reminisce though that part
ready for war ain’t no flaws in my bars
and we don’t do no make believe we send him straight to the stars
and remember cold nights when sh*t really was hard
like sh*t ain’t really going right i reminisce though
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