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krispylife kidd - am i wrong lyrics

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[intro: krispylife kidd]
krispylife, know what the f+ck going on
iced up records b+tch
when he with me, ain’t n0body gon’ touch face
stupid dog, i ain’t gon’ lie this b+tch hard

[verse 1: krispylife kidd]
when he with me, ain’t n0body gon’ touch face
you could never up the score, ’cause all you do is pump+fake
hunnid’ feet stomped dawg, now he got a scuffed face
young boy caught a body and he beat it, that’s a luck case
k!ll you and yo’ siblings, get your brother hit
chop speak real choppy, it got a stutter clip
7.62s hit anything on some h+rny sh+t
ain’t n0body trust you with the bag, all you do is fumble sh+t
[verse 2: babyface ray]
prepared for everything, never stress, i know it come with this
n+ggas plottin’, i got guap to stop it, youngin’s runnin’ bl!cks
n+ggas fakе, acting like it’s problems, really want a pic
i got monstеrs, pop out, you a goner, they don’t count attempts
money counter gem, all these hunnid’s b+tch
mtv peep how i’m livin’, i ain’t stuntin’ b+tch
rap money, trap money, baby throw it back for me
lil’ boy, you should work for lids, too much cap for me

[verse 3: krispylife kidd]
see, i don’t know if i’m wrong or i’m not
am i wrong for tryna rap, or am i wrong for hittin’ the block?
am i wrong for knowing this b+tch a thot and still get the top?
like yo’ label don’t f+ck wit’ you, i’ll get you dropped
am i wrong, for wanting to see my n+ggas ball?
am i wrong for hittin’ this b+tch, and never ever call?
i guess i’m wrong ’cause i’m tired and i ain’t answering my phone
yeah it’s wrong, you preach real sh+t but don’t the code

[verse 4: babyface ray]
am i wrong, for keepin’ it too trill in my songs?
you know you wrong, cappin’ like you on hoes but you broke
baby go and wanna give me throat before i even spoke
hit the club feelin’ like i’m soda, ran in doing the most
winter coat, moncler? no, but take a lil’ bro
minnesota, nine over more, i swear he paid the most
no more humble, flexin’ on the ‘gram, they hate that i’m the goat
crib bigger than the school, i came from sleepin’ on the floor
[verse 5: krispylife kidd]
i hit the b+tch with the perc’ d+ck, she begging for some more
i only sell verses but the fiends begging for some dope
left pocket full of green sh+t, i’m talking artichokes
say the wrong thing on the mic, and that’ll get an artist choked

[verse 6: babyface ray]
ayy the plug came, i darted on it
thirty inch forgiato rims with the harley on it
i could see this n+ggas hoes without the carti’s on
police kick the door, jump out the house like playboi carti on it



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