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hoodrich pablo juan – zabamafoo lyrics

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[verse: lil uzi vert]
choppa on me and you know that b-tch floatin
pistol on my and you know that b-tch loaded
livin’ my life just like everything golden
when i say that im talkin’ ’bout them rollies
n-gg- talk sh-t put a hole in him slowly
then i bag his b-tch f-ck on that b-tch slowly
say you gettin’ money then you gotta show me
no im a vlone thug b-tch im so lonely
check it out
diamonds shine in the dark
water ring look like floss
f-ck her once break her heart
skate on that girl like my name tony hawk
had my swag from the start
had the sh-t in my car
duck, i aim with the moss
birds so cold that my watch make me cough
i ain’t never took a loss
keep it up, run on the course
i hop out that lambo ,no honda acord
i f-ck yo b-tch and i hit record
i took the xan and i hit the snore
walk on the dead, b-tch i trip on a corpse
counting them bands b-tch, im richer than forbes
it feel like jus yesterday i was poor
wake up im swaggin in christain dior

[chorus: hoodrich]
i’m dressing like i was zoboomafoo
got lions and snakes on my gucci shoes
poured up a deuce, i rolled up a blunt or two
your b-tch wanna f-ck when she come through
sensei busting up bricks, i do kung-fu
good aim when shooting, i’m hunting you
caught a cold from my ice, ah-choo
all black golds pull up, peek-a-boo
i’m smoking that platinum cookies, that’s the best
i got the juice, i pour up that hitech
four pockets full, looking like thigh pads
talking that gangsta sh-t, no, you ain’t ’bout that hoodrich
i keep the strap in my louie bag
f-ck on your b-tch, give her back, i’m through with that
filthy rich like the sewer, don’t hang with no rats
designer my fashion, i’m still sipping act

[verse 2: hoodrich]
i got them cookies, they fresh out the oven
juuging and packing, i’m making sh-t double
four in the 20, i like my sh-t muddy
f-ck on that hoe, then i call up her buddy
rich n-gg- status, i keep the strap on me
my red bottoms made from the hair of a pony
my young n-gg-s murking, they scared to be opponents
talking that f-ck sh-t, we pulling right up on it
that pint don’t come sealed, n-gg-, i don’t want it
i trap out the bando, n-gg-, like it’s haunted
hoodwolf, leave me with the junkies in the dungeon
i still serve a n-gg- a bale of the onion
better go ask your b-tch, i’ve been getting money
real candler road n-gg-, you the [?]
i gotta meet the plug way out in conyers
i got the paper like folder dividers
buy the work, no cosigners
real street n-gg-, i ain’t taking no dummies
can’t get it the way we trying, n-gg-, you’ll die
i can seen a n-gg- acting like me, stop lying
i’m pablo the plug, you ain’t sold a dime
i’m in the concrete jungle with the lions
i need the pints, n-gg-, i don’t buy lines
when i get bricks, yeah, i’m paying for mine
360 ring, why the f-ck would i sign?

[chorus]
i’m dressing like i was zoboomafoo
got lions and snakes on my gucci shoes
poured up a deuce, i rolled up a blunt or two
your b-tch wanna f-ck when she come through
sensei busting up bricks, i do kung-fu
good aim when shooting, i’m hunting you
caught a cold from my ice, ah-choo
all black golds pull up, peek-a-boo
i’m smoking that platinum cookies, that’s the best
i got the juice, i pour up that hitech
four pockets full, looking like thigh pads
talking that gangsta sh-t, no, you ain’t ’bout that hoodrich
i keep the strap in my louie bag
f-ck on your b-tch, give her back, i’m through with that
filthy rich like the sewer, don’t hang with no rats
designer my fashion, i’m still sipping act



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