a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

ceeayestro - house of beavers lyrics

(intro)
c-e-e a-y-e s-t-r-o, now lets go
(chorus)
run the race on pace, i’m first never last
gas to my face, it’s time to have a blast
last name stro, first name cash
style got different flavors like laffy taff
stro gucciha, hot like a fever
liq by the liter, i don’t give a house of beavers
verse 1
house of beavers, i don’t see ya
ya girls a sl-t, no i don’t wanna meet her
i be in towns going rounds like locals
its going down like tenor with the vocals
my style on point cause my mind be so focal
your dogs only bark when we come through to poach you
you might pull a 3, i’m laid up like a 2
vegetable because i stay in the stu
stay in the stu, they know when i come through
im a cook up some sh-t we gone turn up too
(chorus)
run the race on pace, i’m first never last
gas to my face, it’s time to have a blast
last name stro, first name cash
style got different flavors like laffy taff
stro gucciha, hot like a fever
liq by the liter, i don’t give a house of beavers
(verse 2)
don’t need no singer, stack like a pringle
i hit the booth you better have the extinguisher
these n-ggas is square reminds me of a frame, im a beast there is no way that you can tame, grown man i don’t have time to play any games, someone come and save me because the mic just caught flames
that’s the crazy sh-t i sit back and think of
by the craziness i think i’m on the brink of, i
m drinking chardonnay out of a clean cup
roll up alotta blunts, that’s why the link up
all the hoes love how i come and pull up
i tenderize any n-gga that think they tough
i’m so high we eye to eye if you look up
moscato in a clean cup, i don’t give a fffff
(chorus)
run the race on pace, i’m first never last
gas to my face, it’s time to have a blast
last name stro, first name cash
style got different flavors like laffy taff
stro gucciha, hot like a fever
liq by the liter, i don’t give a house of beavers
(verse 3)
sharp like a cleaver, i bust ya speakers
delete her number right after i meet her
smoking dutches and my weed throwing punches
i hit her now she walking round with some crutches
i be in the trap that dint mean that i trap
these just my n-ggas i came here just to rap
i hit a corny b-tch with y stick now she cob
can’t take nothing to the after life, you will get robbed

- ceeayestro lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS