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 #

d'shaun - all bad lyrics

Loading...

all bad lyrics
“ay trevv”

trevv what’s popping?

yeah

[verse]

bring that hating sh+t to me
and i’ll prolly bless you
i’ll prolly break ya heart
but i’ll never stress you

you could tell i’m the realist n+gga
in the venue
i got opps, and a couple beats
up on the menu

when you living out a dream
can’t let them n+ggas pinch you
so many problems, i could give em
come and get ya issue

i don’ sold weed pills lean
and firearms
i don’ swiped the oxycodones
for tylenols
told b+tches that i loved em’
but sh+t not all
never passed me the rock
and seen me drop the ball

lord forgive me for this sh+t
i ain’t proudest of
i got the glow like leroy
thank the man above

got the juice and the mu’ f+cking moves boy
she can’t get inside the car with attitude on
and don’t you step all on the carpet with no shoes on
we want the salad and the carrots & croutons

we had them pints of that yellow
grey poupon
lil’ momma seen me counting bands
like boy what you on?

f+ck all that talking i was tweaking off the adderall
was buying guns if they was used i ain’t ask at all
turned my sh+t in at the trap and ‘came a troubadour
lotta n+ggas turned that back, but that just opened doors

now i need the lamborghini with the open doors
i gotta pretty b+tch to tiptoe on these marble floors
they should’ve never gave us money, now i’m wanting more
young n+gga tryna ball emeka okafor
i don’ ran it up so much they cut the scoreboard
i seen sauce take the money from the floorboard
so remind me what a n+gga need a wh0re for
polynesian sauced shrimp came from bora bora, uh

coach take me off the bench i’m tryna score more
was 17 selling tickets for the score more
i got love and the drugs, what you want boy
bad b+tch, she gone barber line you up boy

f+ck you good and then call yo ass a homeboy
i taught her all well, all my hoes homegrown boy

we don’ poured so many drinks my g what time it is
young rebel i ain’t even do what simon said
i want baguettes and the brioche all kinda bread
and the handmade linens with the finest threads

i, pop sh+t, fly sh+t, that united sh+t
i , write the nicest sh+t, got the midas pen
she, get high on xanax, and some vicodin
i, told her, keep it to ya self, i ont like the sh+t

yeah

break it down roll it up
breathe in sh+t
4 n+ggas we was in the car
with 10 sticks
i’m ashamed momma
i don’ hit a hundred l!cks
i feel like james dolan
i don’ sold a hundred knicks

f+ck that trapping sh+t
i’m better at this rapping sh+t
these n+ggas outchea tryna
crash like a accident

f+ck the streets
the streets ain’t never had my back ‘n sh+t
hard times what i been through
looking back at it

lotta n+ggas glorify this sh+t on this side
i don’ sat in court rooms and sat court side
i cut n+ggas off the team like apartheid
i’m on my job and these lil n+ggas part time

yeah

it’s all bad
i don’ …. in the brown bag
….

- dshaun lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS

Loading...