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arnold palmer - stanwill & j1hunnit lyrics

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[intro]
(relapse)
(vinxia)

[verse 1: stanwill]
all the tens i done hit, i can’t even remember
paid an arm just to eat, blew a sleeve on some dinner
all these icy pendants made your b*tch think it’s december
dsm, we the militia, don’t think you a member
scrollin’ through these model b*tches, who i’m tryna hit the most?
martinis in bikinis, me and your b*tch hit the coast
i was swingin’ with my back against the ropes
all this f*ckin’ christian in her closet, think my b*tch the pope
chilly in these motherf*ckin’ streets, thе bullets hit his coat
he be rappin’ cap a lot, hе in the booth with fitteds on
i do real estate, i send them .308s to hit his home
words never hurt my opps, so that’s why we keep sticks and stones
pendants on my neck clankin’, i got the b*tches’ necks breakin’
turned the floor into a work of art, you know i step maison
glocky might do him foul, but this tec flavor
funny he thought he had all that heart, we left his chest vacant

[verse 2: j1hunnit]
i rock chrome heart cross, don’t celebrate the pagan
i heard he sweet and a pig, we make candied bacon
i’m eatin’ ackee and saltfish, my girlfriend jamaican
bro’ll pull a string with that mop, but we ain’t watching breaking
he don’t need a sling for the chop, he shoot like john matrix
i made a ten*ball in a fifty*dollar pair of asics
the hutch make it hard for them to see, they might need some lasik
unc’ beatin’ white in the kitchen, but don’t think we racist
dropped a four of freaky t in my arnold palmer
the trish taste kinda weird, it ain’t like alpharma
red cheese, fifty*dollar bills, i come chicken parma
blue notes, not aruba money, and it’s off the corner
new crops comin’ in, i get strands from farmers
i’m not a little local artist, i’m a paid performer
i can tell i’m gettin’ close, the sensations warmer
you n*ggas peewee ballin’, i don’t play pop warner
[outro: j1hunnit]
shrimp*ass dweeb
1hunnit
dog sh*t posse, militia
lab business

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