Baby Blue Soundcrew

Baby Blue Soundcrew - Too Much songtekst

Je score:

f/ Ghetto Concept







[Chorus]



Too much for money



Too much for cars



Too much for hoes



Too much for clothes



Too much for bar



Too much for clubs



Too much for thugs



Too much for drugs



Too much for much



Too much for love



Too much for haters



Too much for players



Too much for gators



Too much for paper



Too much for favors



Too much for saws



Too much for laws



Too much for raws



Too much for brawls



Too much for y'all







[Verse 1: Kwajo]



Breakdown niggas, run through niggas



Stay comin' through with my 7 Bills niggas



Make mad figures, my thugs pull triggers



Leave 'em with the cash and the stash, quick niggas



All day everyday



We do or die, serious



Pass up in the cut, these haters keep get in touch



Zig-Zag to Dutch, livin' it up



G.C., 7 Bills what?



Sharpen the cut







[Chorus]







[Verse 2: Dolo]



My nigga pump all night



Do the goonin' all night



Bag a trick that blow dick



And twist that bitch all night



Got my ring, chain-swings



We got the drop word-life



Hamela, Hannibal cop



Put that in your pipe



The tough diaras mazara rap don't concern me



We cut your Beef Jerkey, Cold Turkey



Presedential, Oyster Iceberg jersey



Whatchu got ain't worthy



Four 50's, need a shift



Swallow your derby nigga



We...







[Chorus]







[Verse 3: Kwajo]



Yo the 7 Too Much were just too dangerous



We Off-The-Hook, we balterbus, all murderous



Outta the blue, get swept like Typhoon



Top 'coons, killin' these fools with brand new tunes



Ladies shake the middle (What?)



Fellas throw your guns up



Strictly thumbs up, when we come you get duffed up



Cuffed up, roughed up, 7 Bills, nigga what?



9-9, tucci, we erupt, just too much







[Chorus]







[Verse 4: Dolo]



To all my Porto Rocks and Ice Cubans who lick shots



My Dominicans, makin' them ends and don't stop



To my stone-cold niggas who controllin' the blocks



And all my stone-cold bitches never blowin' up spots



I put it down for y'all



Let off a rhyme for y'all



Knowin', too much for much, but I'ma pound for y'all



Never see me at the Bar, got that Crown Royal



How that sound?



Mow y'all, everybody get ball, c'mon







[Chorus]
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Taal: Engels

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