Інформація про пісню На цій сторінці ви можете ознайомитися з текстом пісні Blatlanta, виконавця - Waka Flocka Flame.
Дата випуску: 01.03.2018
Вікові обмеження: 18+
Мова пісні: Англійська
Blatlanta |
I’m from southside of this Blatlanta |
Got shooters in Chiraq |
Got shooters that’ll blast you |
I’m good in places you’ve never been |
They’ll give you shots, no medicine |
So test Flock, don’t try that |
I got little niggas with big guns |
Take limbs off like that’s contact |
And ain’t scared to catch no murder case |
Every summer, boost the murder rate |
Won’t send em now, I’ll send em them later |
When they cool off, I’ll prefer to wait |
Cause a real boss got to think smart |
Cause the goal is to get cleaned off |
While winners beef, we never see y’all |
Cause the truth is your team soft |
You ain’t good out in these streets, nigga |
You’re a foreign, no green card |
I been out in these streets, nigga |
Since a young nigga getting green off |
Jewelry on out in any hood, won’t believe what this ring cost |
Never tucking my chain in and I’m pulling up in your dream car |
Can’t talk real and not mention me |
What? You niggas don’t get it yet |
I’m the realest in it and I built your image |
Turn any block to Virginia Tech |
You a pussy nigga never been a threat |
I’m throwing bullets, Eli Manning |
Any time you can intercept like Brandon Lee die in your set |
Like blaow! |
Nigga I ain’t playin' no games |
I ain’t talking 'bout a Rover when I say I got range like blaow! |
Frontin' for the fame get your name on the news |
Cause I really got aim with the tool like blaow! |
Shoot outs ain’t nothing that’s new to me |
I’m only 2 or 3 he gone catch 2 or 3 |
Right through his jewelry nigga you food to me |
Shouldn’t have said what you said you gone do to me |
These rappers as fake as a 3 dollar bill |
And I really don’t care how they feel |
Don’t make you a gangster cause you touched a mill ' |
Put you on the plate, I make you a meal |
Don’t make me reveal the truth about you niggas |
You know that I will green light you for real |
It’s nothing my nigga I put on your head all bread that you signed for your deal |
Boy we know you a façade |
Know you won’t ride, everything you say a lie |
Ain’t no surprise, beefing with me isn’t wise |
All these crooks oversize, swallow your pride |
Or you can swallow this nine, really don’t matter to me |
I let you decide maybe I might let you slide, sike, homicide |
Before this rap I was your favorite rappers favorite shooter |
It ain’t a question I’m a rider like I drive a hoover |
I’m too G so without me there wouldn’t be no Google |
Your street cred a 3.50 without my approval |