Cory Gunz
Cory Gunz - Ymcmb Mmg songtekst
Je score:
Stare is blank when the trigger face Lil nigga with a bigger base Know me young homie? here's some money, you wonder now I'll make 2012 with a number dial Talking that shit; don't know who they rapping with Pause, I say fuck em fast, rabbit dicks I turn the booth to a maggot pit She appear when I wave the david banner wrist Gettin money, you niggas seein me like my mother home She's bitchin her dog is back with another bone Hollar for a dollar, to swallow back I hit her right off of twitter, now follow that I'm booking face, my network is social Young money, cash money, we coach who coach you Slow up them protools with them loco vocals What you know to, don't do, nigga I'm your go-tos, go-to Plot, once you try I approach you quiet with the toast too Fire, I will smoke you Tie, any man, bear hand choke you Silence is what I go to Violent, burner in the safe, burner in the car, and the plates, burner on The waist Find the burner and they solving the case Murder in the place, let is dislove in his waist I don't give a fuck if your moms and all is in the play Get your pops, get popped, nigga pop off Get a drop, in the city chopped, get in knocked off Glock and it gettin hot, knock ya socks off Get clocked, when it tick, get tocked off Block niggas, by the block when it's blocked off Swat looking for the yatch when is docked off In the spot where niggas plot to get bopped, pause And when the waps stop then ya top off Ymcmb doublem g, you know me Old school flow like kool mo dee Coastal flow, I move low key Make a move ot Get a brick for the low 95 south get a chick that would go Every 36 let the bitch get an o I put it in the hood that bitch better snow In the middle of summer, do numbers Niggas better run from us that, front us That mac-10 with a drummer, they want us Tell them niggas run up, get done up When that automatic get clappin like cory gunz when he rapping That shit be spitting so fast, and my niggas we platinum And I'm... on the way I'm going glow, I put my pressy on 30 thou, like a got a camero chevy on I go loud around the neck give em a heavy one And niggas sleeping on me, guess I get my freddy on Nightmare on you record labels I tell em put the dirty money on the other table You ever seen a 100 racks off fiend money That martin luther king, I had a dream money I can tell you niggas never seen money We sellin white girl, gettin christine money Aguilera, I'm in the panorama Niggas whisper when I come through, I can barely hear em I know these niggas looking, I can't see em though My daddy in the grave, I make you meet em though They call me, mister "fuck a nigga" I don't need a ho Cause I got my paper up, it's time to get my haters up I'm gone! Bitch! I'm gone!