disloyal - reefuh lyrics
[intro]
(you like that kind of thing?)
hundred*inch rims on a brabus, b*tch
hundred*inch rims on a—, huh, brabus
[verse 1]
actavis, show me somethin’
xanax, xanax, i don’t know n0body
if you say you love me, i’ma run with it
bottle pop, have some fun with it, uh
runnin’ back like she ain’t tell me she was done with it
b*tch had turned me off actin’ like i’m not the one with it
[chorus]
hundred*inch rims on a brabus, b*tch
why the pretty women wanna acid trip?
in los angeles, was on some fashion sh*t
opportunities arose and i attacked that, b*tch
i could wear whatever the f*ck i want
i’ma keep bein’ who the f*ck i am
lot of backstabs, so i trust no one
try to make do with what the f*ck i can, uh
[verse 2]
i was young and dumb when i popped thosе pills
b*tch, please, you should know they gеttin’ popped again
busy doin’ way too much, i’m tryna cop a thrill
i get caught inside the mirror, wanna rush that man
out of breath ’cause the drank let the walls close in
it’s getting hard for me to think ’cause i’on got no plan
b*tch, i got only the family in a four*door sedan
last thing i wanna do is go back where it began
because i never have done the things i never have did
words cut so deep, i felt the punch in my ribs
spent love on me if it was all you could give
drugs got a hold, could barely breathe in this b*tch
i’m talkin’ ’bout—, uh, i’m talkin’ ’bout money on a counter
i’m talkin’ ’bout racks gettin’ spread
ho tryna f*ck me for a payment, tell the b*tch i’d rather be dead
this ho be goin’ tunnel vision, don’t even know what the h*ll i said
i got gumbo in my pocket, sittin’ on a stack of bread
[chorus]
hundred*inch rims on a brabus, b*tch
why the pretty girls wanna acid trip?
in los angeles, was on some fashion sh*t
i get lots of somethin’ i can’t ration, b*tch
opportunities arose and i attacked that, b*tch
price tag on ya soul, tryna buy it
p*ssy took my rack, i need my rack back, b*tch
flip a truck like a flapjack, b*tch
[verse 3]
f*cked a ho safe, ooh, baby
percs got ’em tweakin’, i think folks caught rabies
had beef with a jit, i might f*ck his old lady
hundred rounds, posted up, we like the navy, ah
guns to his head like dababy, ah
she gon’ offer brain, i said, “maybe,” ah
molly water got me lazy, ah
my lil’ snapper go brazy, ah
if i smoke dro twice, i might not make it to the spot
if the door won’t lock, squeeze the handle ’til it pops
if i go broke doin’ me, by every means, let me drop
if being broke is being dead then most my unit getting shot
as much i prayed in the last week, you’d think i’m right next door to god
if being real will get you k!lled, i send the enemies my drop
’cause ain’t no way in h*ll i’d break bad on my brothers from the hop, uh
gin and reefer tryna steer me from the scotch, woah
i got foreign b*tches hoppin’ on my crotch, woah
i drop a bow and my lil’ brother get you got, woah
internet beef, talkin’ to a bot, woah
g19 squeezin’, this b*tch here got a dot, bro
ap got me freezing, his sh*t got ’em hot though
switch up for no reason, leave that p*ssy out to rot, bro
i wanna see him shot though, i wanna see him dead so
reachin’ for that trigger, folks’ll come knock off his head, woah
[chorus]
hundred*inch rims on a brabus, b*tch
why the pretty girls wanna acid trip?
in los angeles, was on some fashion sh*t
i get lots of somethin’ i can’t ration, b*tch
i could wear whatever the f*ck i want
i’ma keep bein’ who the f*ck i am
lot of backstabs, so i trust no one
try to make do with what the f*ck i can, uh
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