lirikcinta.com
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

droptop mercedes - lv beats lyrics

Loading...

[intro: dizzy]
dizzy, kay1, lv
f*ck is up b*tch?

[verse 1: dizzy]
in the kitchen making ms
in the garage i got benzes
in the crib i swerve 10s
cartier for my lenses
maybach swervin’ i got h*lla b*tches that i’m curving
shooting n****s up in brooklyn like i’m kyrie irving
in the club throw up 1s make these b*tches strip
amiri jeans, i stay flooded, yea you see the drip
drum rounds, big guns with banana clips
make her l!ck my lip while her best friend l!cks the cl*t
private jet to miami take her on a trip (yea, take her on a trip)
in the kitchen making ms
in the garage i got benzes
in the crib i swerve 10s
cartier for my lenses
[verse 2: kay1]
writing cheques, breaking necks
got a lotta cred, yea i’m making bread, breaking bread
left that b*tch on read, shoot them once and they dead
don’t need to check again, cause i’m the f*cking man
put you in a trance
yea i got these bands
you gonna get these hands
hit you like i’m jackie chan
hit you cause i’m f*cking mad
spent 3 years in the can
not here to make amends, pull up in the benz, it don’t make no sense
call me dr. drazy
make this b*tch go crazy
beat go f*cking brazy
yea you f*cking lazy
i think i’m f*cking hazy
cooking in the kitchen yea this sh*t tasty
and i’m on a mission, call me tracy mcgrady

[verse 3: lil’ vader]
i think that kay1 might be g*y, cause he touched his opps
shut the f*ck up, you ain’t gangster, you ain’t got no opps
driving down the street in my car it’s a drop top
gucci on my feet, gucci mane, yea i feel like wop
feel like cash carti, i got top, in my droptop
your mans is a flop, in your pics, always cropped off
see the cops, put my roof up, then i drive off (then i drive off)
control the game like toni kroos
neck shining bright like these chains from zeus
you know i got the sauce, i’m dripping, wet, juice
way she touching on me make me think she a masseuse
black jacket on me, canadian goose
black eyes, get no sleep, yea this sh*t not a bruise
4am and i’m thinking of some rhymes dr. seuss
always clean when i step out, 800 dollar shoes
how you try me? get smacked
you is whack, h*lla whack
you’s a b*tch and that’s that
eat your b*tch up like a snack
tic tac, she said you’s a tic tac
get back, you ain’t pop smoke b*tch, you ain’t gonna get back
big stacks, in my safe, yea i keep them big racks
don’t lack, when you in the parking lot, don’t lack
sit back, jordi alba way you got left back
all black, new whip, make it matte, all black

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular

Loading...