ABK (Anybody Killa)

ABK (Anybody Killa) - Nevehoe songtekst

Je score:



Neva 
Neva 
Neva 
Neva 
Neva 
Neva 
Neva 
Neva 
Stay up off it! 


Quit frontin' 
Actin' like I don't know what you up to 
I see right through you 
So what you gonna do? 
Never will you step a foot around me again 
'Cause hangin' with you I can't win 
Some of the people in this world is some straight up hoes 
Brown nose, I suppose, that's how it goes 
But I sit back watchin', clockin' dollars 
With a smirk on my face waitin' for you to holla 
So I can say nevehoe, nope, what you thinkin'? 
All up in my face, tryna thug, breath stinkin' 
You can get the barrel from my homey, Shaggy's shotgun 
All up in your face in case ya wanna taste a hot one 
I got no love for them marks 
Punks, hoes, snitches 
Grown ass bitches 
So stay away and don't come to close 
'Cause you never know who may wanna come and slit ya throat 


Nevehoe 
You ain't gettin' shit 
Nevehoe 
Nevehoe 
Stay up off it! 


I can't stand a muthafucka like you 
When my pockets in mind, I don't care what you into 
I got too many mouths to feeds from kids to mothers 
My wife and brothers and too many others 
See I'm being tryin' to speak on 
while you sit back and see me as a jar of Grey Poupon 
I should'a just stuck my dick in your mouth 
Gave your eyes chocolate donuts and bounced the fuck out 
I go home and meditate with some sage 
Tryna brush off these forked tongues like back in the day 
But your new name is vittle fingers 
'Cause your a bank account raper tryin' to steal my dinners 
Just another undercover crackhead 
It comes down to you ain't rapin' me again 
Nevehoe, bitch, for now and nevermore 
Just get your hands out my cookie jar you fuckin' whore 


Nevehoe 
You ain't gettin' shit 
Nevehoe 
Nevehoe 
Stay up off it! 


Nevehoe, not no mo' 
'Cause all your true colors are startin' to show 
Greedy ass, hand in the cookie jar 
Tryna get a fistful but it's just too hard 
Let me catch you again, I thought I said never 
Tryna take what's mine but you ain't that clever 
Runnin' with a hatchet 
Psychopathic 
We don't stop, so you gets no cream of our crop 


Twelve years in this game, for what? 
So you can a bank teller out my butt, BITCH! 
Now fuck that, it's time for some chokin' 
Crackin' those legs open, 'cause your drunk and smokin' 
Spittin' out babies like your spit your game 
Shitloads of money in fifteen minutes of fame 
Nevehoe, no, I ain't the one 
I don't pack one, but I do got a gun 


Nevehoe 
You ain't gettin' shit 
Nevehoe 
Nevehoe 
Stay up off it! 

What, what..? Bring that shit in bitch, what?!.. 
(Stay up off it!) 
Man, don't even touch my weed, dog I will bust that lip..(Stay up off it!) 
Don't, don't, don't...you ain't gettin' no ride, fuck you, you ain't got no gas money (Stay up
off it!) 
Naw, hoe don't even fuckin' worry about my bank account bitch! 
(Stay up off it!)



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Taal: Engels

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