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a$hy black thug - fatal lyrics

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[intro]
yeah
two blunts
check it

[verse 1: a$hy black thug]
n-gga i been in the field like a f-cking jock
now the album bout drop; no otter box
and the coupe transform like a autobot
i could make a deaf ho wanna hear me out wait
i could make a mute ho wanna scream and shout
make a blind ho sign language word of mouth, let’s go
thugga f. baby and the f is just for fatal
funky flawless fresh faded, freaky fit, finesse finagle
fleeky flow forever fuego, four felicas fien for facials
float ferrari’s, feelin froggy? fishers find him for four franklins d-mn
what do i be thinking d-mn, milk this sh-t like raisin bran
turnt up like a ceiling fan, got downers and the upper hand
you plain(plane) and i’m a helipad, how (can ya)kenya like obama dad
not f-ck wit mr.macho man? yo b-tch’ll f-ck my hologram
pillows in my condo, they soft as a mulatto, in the paint like i’m pic-sso
i flow colder than toronto, and i smoke like colorado
i’ll k!ll a man, no jaro, i freed her(frida) just like kahlo
now she in the streets like potholes
word

[verse 2: twix]
twix i sound like payday, i get free just like a.j
i’m brandy and he ray j, they so-so and i’m crochet
i see trough them like x ray, rihanna of the beltway
b-tch everyday my birthday but the mirror say i don’t age, word
n-ggas ain’t sh-t; constipation
i am a star; constellation
f-ck 12; consummation
i deserve congratulations
n-ggas are not f-cking wit the a$hy n-gga
and his twin a f-cking queen; no mattress n-gga
i like doing what i want and i like savage n-ggas
like i left the drive thru, i’m in my bag my n-gga
i do this sh-t for my father, i do this sh-t for my daughter
and yeah we celebrate kwanzaa but she a christmas tree topper
i hit the beat and go bonkers, you know that twix is a problem
and when i buy me a bentley, i’ll paint it black like wakanda
you think it’s meech and da vinci when we pull up to yo college
but it’s just me and baby twix, it’s like this sh-t is the parkers
the notorious t-w-i to the x, still repping yellow brick, ain’t too fly for the ‘jets
and my rollie said i ain’t got no time for my ex
black bonnie out this b-tch wit’ a mind full of checks
gang
we lit

[outro: a$hy black thug]
two blunts



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