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flow (ym) - you don't really lyrics

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[intro: flow]
i`m so piru but i got a blue microphone ain’t that a shame
but these misfit headphones are dope
and ion even be matching no more
i got a red shirt, grey shorts, lime blue socks, pink shoes, and a black hat on
red watch and a purple watch
and blueple paink!llers
yeah

[verse 1: flow]
scope on the chopper, just to make sure it’s you
i can zoom in and turn this b-tch into a photo shoot
highway to heaven boy it’s time for you to ride out
smoking on that bob marley up in amy winehouse
my att-tude changed since my girlfriend went in labor
cuz i be f-cked up off that medicine they gave her
so i gave her my three aided
i would give my boot for ya
yeah my name flow b-tch but you can call me lucifer
i just let that chrome speak
keep that gun in arm reach
yeah i’m from new orleans but my swagga come from long beach
i’m about to k!ll ’em they goin have to k!ll me
so role another spliffy
so they can engineer me
pistol to ya ear, i’m hoping you can hear
pistol to ya ear, i’m hoping you can hear
yeah, new coup call it brazy red
short n-gga with a d-ck like a baby leg

[hook; slim boogie]
n-ggas talk a lot of sh-t but i’m just hearing verbs
cuz i’m getting money, smokin’ weed, and sippin’ syrup
my n-ggas flippin’ money, flippin’ b-tches, flippin’ birds
and i’ll getcha gone
all i do is get a word
no you don’t really want it
you don’t really want it
no you don’t really want it
you don’t really want it
no you don’t really want it
you don’t really want it
no you don’t really want it
you don’t really want it

[verse 2: taliban bundy]
b-tch it ain’t beef, but i ain’t f-cking with you urkels
i’ll say it’s all grave and still f-ck around and murk ya
don’t desert the fam gang, we’ll f-ck around and jerk ya
jack you off a j p, general purpose
b-tch get my money, and twist up all my purple
ion think sh-t funny but commas in them circles
i’m not a comical person
funny that yo girl say i’m much hotter in person
i got her breakfast you got her them purses
she came i came guess the timing was perfect
it’s not even worth it, don’t even try to dad it
you know i played with the heat like i’m in miami
really played with them blocks, i should win a grammy
i ran the streets so much i could’ve pulled a hammy
two gs on yo helmet like you go to gramland
john make sh-t, b-tch i k!ll you on yo campus
fam gang, flame gang you ain’t in the family
n-ggas tryna ride the wave like we live in cali
p-ssy

[hook; slim boogie]
n-ggas talk a lot of sh-t but i’m just hearing verbs
cuz i’m getting money, smokin’ weed, and sippin’ syrup
my n-ggas flippin’ money, flippin’ b-tches, flippin’ birds
and i’ll getcha gone
all i do is get a word



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