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 #

foolio - demi god lyrics

[intro:]
ooh, it’s wavy808
yeah
yeah
‘ight, do what we gon’ do (what it is?)
i know this, like, i feel—
sixth time tryna’ k!ll this n+gga foolio, but look (what’s up?)
he got a green dodge durango and a black srt (yeah?)
who got the drop on him, man? (let’s do it)
let’s go
that’s him backin’ out right there (let’s go, man, let’s go)
shoot, n+gga, shoot
d+mn, you k!lled him? (check the news)
i know that n+gga dead (what the f+ck? that n+gga still livin’, man, d+mn)

[verse:]
i saw death like five, six times, like i’m a super saiyan
i can’t die, so my opps thinkin’ that i’m superman
told lil’ bro, “go flip they block,” that’s just the mood i’m in
still in my city, on my head, like a hunnid’ bands
so i’ma buy a hunnid’ choppas and some stolen cars
october 7th, them boys tried to k!ll a superstar
i’m still standin’, poppin’ percocets and xanny bars
survived dеath so many times like i’m a demigod
wе on the road, just left miami, brudda crackin’ cars
my b+tch just made another 100k off doin’ fraud
at green acres, finna’ buy my glock some body parts
right now, i wanna k!ll my cousin, i don’t got no heart
bro, don’t come through 6 block fishin’, you ain’t got no rod
at green acres, finna’ buy my glock some body parts
he gave my drop, how i let a snake get in my yard?
survived death so many times, i’m a demigod
‘posed to be chillin’, way in cali’, tryna’ ship them chickens
i want all them n+ggas dead, that’s why i’m in my feelin’s
my foot healin’, with these crutches, i still stand on business
i need ’em dead before my flight land back in the city
high speed chases, brand new glock, refuse to throw my glizzy
smoke got heavy, i ain’t runnin’, i ain’t leave my city
wit’ this glock, .357, b+tch, i feel like bibby
way in pittsburgh, 14 on me like i’m george pickens
in new york city talkin’ business, just like russel simmons
rest in the trenches, holidays, sh+t was gettin’ vicious
public housin’, f+ck christmas, we ain’t have no chimney
this sh+t just hit me, broke my heart, bangman keep on stealin’
promote the violence, but stay in school to all the children
rule number one, you [?] but trust these b+tches
rule number two, you need money to war wit’ the city
rule number three, police grab you, ain’t no f+ckin’ snitchin’
rule number four, pray to god for this life we livin’
’cause any day, you could die or go to penitentiary
[outro:]
d+mn
swear to god
sh+t real life

- foolio lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS