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finnyfromflickr - gummo (megamix) lyrics

[part i: 6ix9ine – gummo (megamix)]

[intro 1: galaxy goats; g-yhiphop; 6ix9ine]
creepers iffy, uh
c-m real sticky, uh
got the bl!cky, uh, drum, it holds fifty, uh

[intro 2: galaxy goats; g-yhiphop; 6ix9ine]
mc gang!
sc-m gang!
g-y gang!

[verse 1: g-yhiphop]
pop my booty like a wheelie, n-gga
i’m fo’really, n-gga
in the bed with them booty k!llers and them fruity n-ggas
we wake up taking booty pictures
sending nudies n-gga
you straight dude, you a loser n-gga f-ck me smoother n-gga
f-cking p–p straight on my n-gga d-ck on low
he only want for my d-ck, and he dont want me no more
he thats all he really use me for then he kick me out the door
i dont i want him you can keep the n-gga
his d-ck is really small
in new york my n-ggas dont suck one c-ck, my n-ggas suck the c-ck
block blow a d-ck or throw in c-cks
run up, run um off the block
caught his p-n-s in my -ssh0l-, i grinded for the c-ck
n-gga say he ate my -ss, but my -ss worth a lot
i dont f-ck with no old hoes, only new holes
put his d-ck inside my back bone, and p-ss me too his bro
he dont love me thats a sad case
and im mad tho
he just f-cked me in my -ssh0l-, and then he dashed home

[chorus: 6ix9ine]
i’m on some rob a n-gga sh-t, take a n-gga b-tch
do the dash in the whip, count the cash in the whip
i pull up with a stick, i let that sh-t hit
shout out… but i f-cked that n-gga b-tch

[verse 2: galaxy goats; g-yhiphop; 6ix9ine]
creepers iffy, uh
c-m real sticky, uh
got the bl!cky, uh, drum, it holds fifty, uh
move milli’, all my n-ggas on fifty, uh
talk down, pew pew pew, you silly, uh
hit a stain, fifty bands, all hunnids
spinnin’ through ya block, like a pop shove-it
shoot at me i’m shootin’ back, i’m gettin’ buckets
i ain’t wanna take his life, but n-gga, f-ck it

[verse 3: montana of 300]
shorty hit me up, she like “tony pick me up”
she wanna l!ck me up, want me to beat that kitty up
shorty thick as f-ck, -ss look like nicki b-tt
she like her p-ssy ate, and she like her t-tties sucked
don’t ask me questions, uh-uh b-tch this ain’t no trivia
cause i’ll dub a b-tch and i don’t mean i’m 20 up
was hustlin’ in the trap, i used to bag that sticky up
was moving ounces out that b-tch just like a sippy cup
pounds in garbage bags the b-tches looked like missy uh
one thing about me had two bodies by age 21
these haters envious i love when they act really tough
hit ’em with the pump it look like i shot ricky up
i stay litty uh, saucy plus i’m drippy huh
you can’t stick me up, b-tch i keep the glizzy tucked
i’m suge mixed with pac, diddy mixed with biggie uh
i’m signed to myself, my net worth 8 milli uh
i do this for my fans, and for la familia
my daughter pretty uh, sweeter than olivia
from the land of larry hoover n-gga, keep a group of hittaz
k!ll a opp while he f-ckin’ sleep i’m freddy krueger n-gga
one shot’ll lift him up and drop him like a uber n-gga
cold blood i guess he poolin’ n-gga, family view a n-gga
told y’all i keep that iron close if he think i’m a joke
air him out, like the dryer broke if he try to poke
real n-gga in this gucci sh-t i made her coochie drip
i’m tatted up, like i’m tunechi b-tch made her leave who she with
she blew on me like i’m tookey b-tch don’t try no flukey sh-t
cause this mc stay with the hammer but this b-tch ain’t too legit
banana clips, when this uzi spit it ain’t no fruity sh-t
pop a opp, like a roofie quick k!ll all that goofy sh-t
remember when, i was mad broke, before the cash flow
my og, on and off that base, like an astro
prayed to god for better days he gave me what i asked for
rap god you see me goin’ in, like a gl-ss door
every track i gotta spaz tho like it’s my last tho
it’s only snakes, in the gr-ss so i cut the gr-ss low
n-ggas 12, acting like they mob, donnie brasco
keep a stick, like a staff hoe go do the math hoe
gun cases, tell ’em google that i always had pole
couldn’t wait to get it jumpin’ like a f-ckin tadpole
i’m just tryna be a dad tho don’t be an -ssh0l-
cause i’ll switch back to my past, hoe, quick as flash hoe
and if i pop up in that mask hoe, i’m on yo -ss hoe
glock 50’s b-tch we slash throats don’t get yo -ss smoked
pick his top, like an afro then do the dash hoe
and if you hatin’ b-tch you better skate lupe fiasco

- finnyfromflickr lyrics

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