azlyrics.biz
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 #

daboii – dis ain’t no mumble rap lyrics

Loading...

[verse]
ah, the only time you n-ggas hard is when you wit’ somebody
if i go down it’s first degree don’t do attempted homi’s
and i don’t even want the neck if she don’t give it sloppy
i’m off red, might sip wock but i’m not sipping quali
that sh-t sound tight up in yo’ songs but you ain’t smoked nothin’
she got a thang for me and bro sh-t we both f-ckin’
if brodie swing i’m swinging wit’ ’em, sh-t we both thumpin’
but if they wanna take it there then b-tch i’m pole clutchin’
said if they wanna take it there then b-tch i’m dome bustin’
yeah we got funk up in that whip i’m who your ho bumpin’
with these hands, might beat a n-gga like he stole somethin’
heard you be scared to tell them people you don’t know nothin’
it’s about respect don’t give a f-ck how many bands you had
opps tryna host a party we gon’ cancel that
toss the strap to lil’ bro and have him handle that
ah since you wanna play wit’ fire give this candle back
you all can’t even hit my line, new number, who is it?
still sticking to the code it’s still money over b-tches
and i’m really in the game, what the f-ck is a scrimmage?
bird brain -ss b-tch, i can’t f-ck wit’ no pigeons
and my b-tch keep her hair done ’cause she cl-ssy wit’ it
talkin’ ’bout how i feel about lil’ bruh? don’t even ask me n-gga
catch me in a hood near you in the backstreets chillin’
i heard you like to run your lips so you a athlete wit’ ’em
and i don’t need no big homies, taught myself the game
i’m cut from cloth b-tch you a napkin, we ain’t built the same
you might can fool the gram with them fake d’s but we can tell it’s fake
run up on me while i got my son, he catching sh-lls today
run up on me while i got my son, i’m causing h-ll today
f-ck that lil’ money on my head, b-tch i’m still breathing
and everything a n-gga do these n-ggas steal feezy
i really been to h-ll and back b-tch you a real demon
might pour a four on lil’ two, i bet i’ll beat the dice
you coulda had that lil’ b-tch on lock but you ain’t beat her right
better thank god for the life you got ’cause it could be tonight
lost soul, i’m talking to my hammer when i need advice
and every n-gga i’m wit’ greasy on some crisco sh-t
put something shiny in your whip and get your window bipped
outside but the weed i’m smoking only indo b-tch
and i don’t know where your lips been, i wouldn’t hit your sh-t
and f-ck shooting from far away, i’m close rangin’ wit’ it
b-tch ho n-gga still wear griffy’s he a ain’t sh-t n-gga
free all my n-ggas while they out ’cause they got cases pending
b-tch i’m off the love don’t need no paper just paint you n-ggas
this ain’t no jog but this a sprint let’s see who come in last
tryna help them crackas do they job, can rip his tongue in half
spent some racks up on my baby purse to put my gun in that
these big bullets will turn your quarterback into a running back
you eat the booty like it’s groceries, i put my thumb in that
from the back, pulling out her hair like, “where her bundles at?”
n-gga i ain’t tossing you no work ’cause you might fumble that
and when i speak you hear me loud and clear, this ain’t no mumble rap
b-tch

[outro]
this ain’t no mumble rap
you can hear me loud and clear this ain’t no mumble rap
he gon’ fumble that
you can hear me loud and clear this ain’t no mumble rap
b-tch
this ain’t no mumble rap
hear me loud and clear this ain’t no mumble rap
ain’t tossing him no p-ss ’cause he gon’ fumble that
you can hear me loud and clear this ain’t no mumble rap
b-tch



Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS

Loading...