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loser - otm lyrics

[intro: blue pesos]
he don’t be with the thugs
sh*t
she’s a punk rock b*tch, ugh
n*ggas know the truth
(angel heaven sent)
stop playin’

[chorus: blue pesos]
leave him dancin’ with the stars, come and boogie with the thugs
she’s a punk rock b*tch, and that’s definitely a no
if you a ho or sit in the booth and came out with ten songs
had to flash on a n*gga, hands up, strike a pose, loser
you don’t get dough nor hoes
ask susie and her sister, hoes kickin’ through the door
put the ball in my hands, and every play we gon’ score
every day, she laugh at you ’cause i’m really who she want

[verse 1: blue pesos]
two hundred thousand off rap, no, sir, we not poor
speed off in a foreign, ten bl!cks in the car
we gon’ probably go to jail, bro don’t stop at the light
you say rami made the piece, i call fraud, n*ggas lyin’
my shooter walk in and start shootin’ like he isis
come and boogie with the thugs, we got this n*gga gettin’ hyphy
“rap ’bout your life”, bro, not what i do
everything ain’t what it seems, you wouldn’t last in my shoes
for the freaksky, i’ll hand drums to the youth
b*tch, i’m p, who are you? she like the fact that i’m rude
i’m off a four of that juice, move, i’m not in the mood
this is south central la, you gotta keep a tool
i hate a n*gga always askin’ where the hoes at?
hundiddy bop*bop, here, let him hold that
p don’t fool around, he the wrong n*gga
sh*t, let me show n*ggas
[chorus: blue pesos & duffy]
leave him dancin’ with the stars, come and boogie with the thugs
she’s a punk rock b*tch, and that’s definitely a no
if you a ho or sit in the booth and came out with ten songs
had to flash on a n*gga, hands up, strike a pose, loser
you don’t get dough nor hoes
ask susie and her sister, hoes kickin’ through the door
put the ball in my hands, and every play we gon’ score (sh*t)
every day, she laugh at you ’cause i’m really who she want (b*tch)

[verse 2: duffy]
where the smoke? send the lo’
green beam on my stick, what we on? this a go
chasin’ money, we ain’t never chasin’ hoes
she’s a punk rock b*tch, that’s a no
forty*ball on the floor, keep up, n*ggas slow
don’t be mad at your boy ’cause your b*tch liked my post
stick on me, i’ll get him right, he move wrong
really got it off the mussle, now i flex like i’m hope
big strap, yeah, we know, back back, i’ll blow
he finna do what? n*ggas cap, no you won’t
nan more, i’m a winner, she gon’ choose me over you
bad b*tches all rollin’, beggin’ me to come through
you could get the boot, b*tch, you blew it
the winnin’ team, i ain’t f*ckin’ with no losers
i’m eatin’ steak and lobster with the pistol on me
ain’t no fake politickin’, we really get money
[chorus: blue pesos]
leave him dancin’ with the stars, come and boogie with the thugs
she’s a punk rock b*tch, and that’s definitely a no
if you a ho or sit in the booth and came out with ten songs
had to flash on a n*gga, hands up, strike a pose, loser
you don’t get dough nor hoes
ask susie and her sister, hoes kickin’ through the door
put the ball in my hands, and every play we gon’ score
every day, she laugh at you ’cause i’m really who she want

- otm lyrics

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