junior ferrari - blood side lyrics
[intro: sweet talk]
slowly, i’m arisin’ from the ringin’ of my telephone
picked it up, my n+gga bush then told me that it’s f+ckin’ on
slowly, i’m arisin’ from the ringin’ of my telephone
picked it up, my n+gga bush then told me that it’s f+ckin’ on
[verse 1: sweet talk]
kickin’ it in the park, after dark, we do it every day
started in the mornin’, but now, it’s dark, and ho, we chiefin’ hay
sweet talk on the mic, you know i’m hype, because i’m on that dope
testin’ all you bustas, ’cause i’m quick to make it let it go
ran into some problems with them n+ggas on the other side
play me like a ho, and watch the unexpected k!ller ride
n+ggas turn to snitches, run they mouths just like a b+tch
but don’t say f+ck them bustas, let’s go kick it with lil+
[break: ?]
a new day, my beepers beepin’ and my alarm start ring’s to wake me up
before i leave the house, i hug my mom, she wish me good luck
reached up under my pillow, gripped my nine, and tuck it in my pants
bustas tried to scope me out, if you like your life, don’t take that chance
[verse 2: ? & sweet talk]
everyday, it’s sh+t i’m gettin’ in, hangin’ with lil’ tigh
robbin’ bustas, grip that glock, drinkin’ yac’s, and gettin’ high
sit back in a crutch, high as h+ll, bumpin’ marvin g+ye
‘vious is in the back seat, chiefin’ on a blunt of hay
keke got that tec, don’t bust a sweat, they’ll pop it at yo neck
i know that he’s a lunatic that should be gettin’ crazy checks
i’m that way when chiefin’ hay, don’t drop it off, you’ll make my day
sid has got my back, lil’ derrick drivin’ for the getaway
westwood n+ggas train to k!ll and i stay c+cked at all times
k!llas rot up in my hood, i bet you that i’m down for mine
now, we scoop lil’ ‘vious up out to smoke out on the quarter pound
rollin’, scopin’ bustas ’bout to make some lemons lay it down
[break 2: sweet talk]
lay it down, lay it down, 211’s in effect
fool, you better not bust a sweat, i got this tec up to yo neck
westwood comin’ super deep up in this mothaf+ckin’ b+tch
lil’ p, drop that mass and show them b+tches who they f+ckin’ with
[verse 3: ?]
hickory, d+ckory, dock, from the glock found in my suit
make your body numb with them teflons, then i shoot
cowards, lay it down, i got the jason mask up on my face
bustas better not make no move before i’ll catch a murder case
tell me how my lead taste, i’ll put yo soul to waste
[?], we buckin’ all them hoes, so children, stay in yo place
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