blokka $olo – br6vd lyrics
[trap dylan]
love the way this money stack
so i cannot keep a hoe
can’t let no b+tch hold me back
thumbin’ through the bands while i’m on the go
dead presidents in my shoe box
got 30 rounds might let em go
b+tch i pull up to your party, f+ck it up and they’re ain’t no show
word around yo city is your pockets deep and you can’t fold
land of entrapment i been poppin’ way before
going out of state on the interstate
gettin’ to my plate
staying hungry everyday
put that on my f+ckin’ name
loyalty before this profit sh+t
on the gang we gon’ die rich
moving work like it’s ’86
never switching up in the mix
hard times put me on my grind
beams aiming all around thеm signs
god’s plan when i’m in the field
satan’s еngine i’m out of line
trust dog sh+t gon’ be fine
get yours i’m gon’ get mine
i love my dogs forreal and i’m gonna break bread with more than dimes
[blokka $olo]
we run sh+t all around the city
these p+ssy n+ggas ain’t gon’ feel me
we run sh+t all around the city
all real hustlers always gon’ feel me
married to the money got this pain inside my heart
told my b+tch i love her but i never wrote her no song
i’m so hypnotized by the drugs
i’m so hypnotized by the thugs
i’m so traumatized by the love
i got homicide in my blood
i got thoughts inside my brain
telling me to run away
i got people in my life
begging for me just to stay
n+ggas eating off my plate
like i’m handing out my steak
but can’t stand up in my shoes
without blisters on they legs
ever had a pistol in yo face?
better hope god love you today
ain’t no time to change your ways
if this n+gga sprays your brains
tell your momma you gon’ call her back when these n+ggas trying to spill you
knowing d+mn well you ain’t calling back if these n+ggas really do k!ll you
now flip sh+t they revere you
whole city they feel you
watched the interview a dozen times sh+t now they think they know the real you
still a gangsta
i don’t fear you
f+ck a podcast
i’ll k!ll you
f+ck an old man
in his old ass
woulda coulda shoulda f+ckin’ d+ld+
p+ssy n+gga cannot fake us
die broke in your scr+per
i’mma die with my chopper
like a n+gga play for the lakers
smoke a fat pound of this ayyy dub
fat blunt of this ayyy dub
still got breath in my lungs
and still counting my paper
we run sh+t all around the city
these p+ssy n+ggas ain’t gon’ feel me
we run sh+t all around the city
all real hustlers always gon’ feel me
Random Lyrics