762 - shehatesjj lyrics
[chorus: shehatesjj]
.762, hit it right through your ligiments
i’m chillin’, mane
sendin’ out my n*ggas to go k!ll again (pooh)
no, i cannot leave no f*cking witnesses (ah, no*no*no)
i’m worried ’bout guap, i gotta get my f*cking dividends (woah!)
sippin’ on that [?], this ain’t no juice (ain’t no juice, no)
n*gga can’t even call no f*cking truce (don’t call no truce, b*tch!)
slidin’ with that [?], boy, got a tool (yeah, come here)
and these bullets like a flower finna bloom (hahahaha)
[post*chorus: shehatesjj]
and that choppa make that n*gga lean to it
smokin’ on yo pack, lil’ b*tch, i might be, i don’t bluff
and my lungs ain’t finna fill, keep on smokin’ on yo gang
oh, he keep that steel? know i don’t doubt them bullets hit yo head
[verse 1: shehatesjj]
feelin’ like [?]
i got balenci*balenci’
i got this choppa that [?]
don’t want no smoke, this sh*t get [?] (prra!)
come on the east side, n*ggas, they can’t
for me, i got a choppa, it came with a beam
still with the money, that salary
might take a trip down to la, bih’
feel like yeat, i pull up in a tonka truck
b*tches on my line, they say they wanna f*ck
uh, they wanna f*ck with the guys
run it back, keep me that knife
i got that ho by my side
[verse 2: cheromani+]
keep my man up on my side, lil’ n*gga
yeah, i did this sh*t, i ran that sh*t
n*ggas talking down, we hit a l!ck
and, man, i f*cked that b*tch
f*ck, n*gga, yeah, i’m the sh*t
n*gga, i pictured it, i did that sh*t
if you pass the ball i ain’t gon’ miss that sh*t
i did that sh*t
[bridge: shehatesjj]
like, b*tch, i got a bag
and it came straight from the waist
b*tch, i got her bra
put my kids up on her chest
ballin’, bro, so bad she might eat me up for breakfast
b*tch, this is romani, f*ck ass n*gga, who gon’ challenge me?
[chorus: shehatesjj]
.762, hit it right through your ligiments
i’m chillin’, mane
sendin’ out my n*ggas to go k!ll again (pooh)
no, i cannot leave no f*cking witnesses (ah, no*no*no)
i’m worried ’bout guap, i gotta get my f*cking dividends (woah!)
sippin’ on that [?], this ain’t no juice (ain’t no juice, no)
n*gga can’t even call no f*cking truce (don’t call no truce, b*tch!)
slidin’ with that [?], boy, got a tool (yeah, come here)
and these bullets like a flower finna bloom (hahahaha)
[post*chorus: shehatesjj]
and that choppa make that n*gga lean to it
smokin’ on yo pack, lil’ b*tch, i might be, i don’t bluff
and my lungs ain’t finna fill, keep on smokin’ on yo gang
oh, he keep that steel? know i don’t doubt them bullets hit yo head
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