five finger posse - black punk rock lyrics
[morque!]
this that black punk rock
this that hood goth sh-t
blacked out on the block
and i’m trappin’ like a b-tch
shawty twerking for the bands
tryna slide for my clique
’cause she know we on top
f-ck yo’ clout we gettin’ rich
this that black punk rock
this that hood goth sh-t
blacked out on the block
and i’m trappin’ like a b-tch
shawty twerking for the bands
try’na slide for my clique
’cause she know we on top
f-ck yo’ clout we gettin’ rich
[wifigawd]
i’m a big dog
you a young bull
big choppers, big gas, whatchu’ need boy
i’m so gone off the dope, but i need more
drugs, slap a b-tch n-gga wit’ a skateboard
hit a l!ck, flip the sh-t, then i go home
on the grind, going hard, no days off
i’m going berserk, a n-gga might kurt, i need me an 8 ball
i need me a xan, i rest my hand, that’s all i can say judge
[sub 9k]
yeah
f-ck it
b-tch i’m leanin’ off the flat
and i’m dressed in all black
got my demons, yeah they schemin’ and you know they in the trap
got my b-tch she in the back, and you know she shop at saks
she all black, in that beamer, pull up on me if you schemin’
got a yellow-bone b-tch, and she built just like a demon
top me off and then i’m leavin’, my ogs they 30 beamin’
spit them 40s like some s-m-n
cause it’s only headshots
tryna get my head rocked, this gonna get yo’ head rocked
if you pull up on me, b-tch don’t think it’s only head shots
got some shooters on block, some got 40s, some got mops
i need fetti for that drop
euro money on my watch
euro money on my watch
euro money on my watch
[alvin★abyss]
this that hood goth sh-t, yeah that punk rock sh-t
kick a n-gga in his mitt, if i heard he talkin’ sh-t
rock that polo ski mask, i might go and hit a l!ck
five posse with the sh-ts, flipping souls, f-ck a brick
if he talking down on 5 we might run up in his crib
hit up wifigawd, ask if he was down to juug a b-tch
if a n-gga talkin’ sh-t, put that blade to his hip
pack stinky like some sh-t, ’cause i’m smoking out the zip
[yung mojo]
got a ski mask on, and i’m down to hit a l!ck
don’t need a 30 on my waist, ’cause i’ll cut you with the swiss
got a good foreign chick, she don’t speak no english
yeah i’m trapping out the whip, and i’m trapping out the crib
pull up where you at, and we shootin’ up the sh-t
223 it shoot through bricks, ain’t no runnin’ from this clip
red dot on his head, f-ck n-gga, christmas
n-gga think before you talk, cause we really with the sh-ts
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