Chris Young
Chris Young - Nana (freestyle) songtekst
Je score:
I got a plan to get it straight off the block You boys hustle good, you get paid off the top Uh, switch ships like the dawn, get that rush up in the mon Get the fuck up out yo sleep nigga, hustle til it's gone Rental cus he can't afford the whip Nigga the hustle like Russell cus he can't afford the chip Went against the judge like he can't afford a tip Now he's sittin back with life and he can't afford a pill Back to the gudda where them boys flippin butter War when it's war, man them boys sex yo mother Ta ta ta, hit it just because you love er Hit it just because you sucka Soldier niggas undercover Nigga ride around strapped Keep a couple pistols Catch 'em up in traffic Pussy what's the issue? Colt 40 fever, rip a couple ligaments Just for being disrespectful, motherfuckers ignorant Index itchin, nigga shooters on a mission Big big ladders, ever rugas on extension Rather be broke than be livin in a skirt Niggas gay, fuckin vic, suckin dick to get a verse Tag on this too, now they get to bring that hearse They shoot and tell em, that's the gift between the curse Fuck these niggas, they a lie cus they a pussy You gon hit some big shit? Fine, they pushed me Whole damn block say caution Some body identified, pick up the coffin Nobody will ever know his body was auctioned His body was double barreled, I shot him and tossed it Hitters with the niggas, these pussy niggas, they start shit Hit him with the nini, the bitch I put them apart with Shinin with my niggas, he ones I live in the dark with Down and all the bitches, the ones you niggas be oh shit Ciao baby, be backin up, I can talk shit We don't call em back, we just smashin and then we off shit Rehab Vegas, my playas I had a ball with Check pow, 40 be killin bitches, we all in No shirts, I'm tatted up with Juda Walkin through the club, them thirsty bitches will choose up She a label whore son I see switch and do's up New red bottoms, heavy picture, liftin her shoes up Give a fuck about homie, he's a pooper Keep talkin that bullshit and get yo boof up Point guard, still I'm a shooter, I pick that 2 up Prom Bron, and prime time, I lift the crew up Back for a flash like how the fuck we forget it? I'll tell you one thing, this time yall gonna mean it Nigga the truth, nigga this booth is the block I hustle Niggas ain't got my job but still don't got my struggle Now the booth keep callin, streets callin too You fools keep trollin, hate yall too My attitude, what the fuck is he gonna do? Yo homie dead nigga, you can be gone too Say he tryna stay alive, struggle I survive 24/7 cus I hustle 9 to 5 So I fuckin chop, kept hustlers on they job We whip powder and some butter on the side Now gunnin ain't good, chemists in the kitchen With all this style it's Louis in my stitchin Stuart on the backpack, Ruby on the mac pack Travel around the world girl, plenty land to crash at Spot her from a distance when that ass fat Like the twerk team, run that ass back They don't drop it low, move fast but slow Til my class is in session, be a witness to the flow I'm alive niggas Haha