kurtains - stones lyrics
[intro: kurtains]
don’t f+ck with my bros (don’t f+ck with me)
[chorus: kurtains]
yeah, don’t f+ck around
’cause i brought the sticks, i brought the stones
i put the chopper right up to your dome
you know the chrome, it’s bleeding your nose
i ain’t got time, for none of these hoes
pull up with a strap, i’m makin’ ’em fold
makin’ ’em dance, makin’ them diddy though
big racks, i stuff in my fendi bag
feel like a xan, hop in my outside
i got a check, checking my vibe out
running your mouth, end up in a volvo
yeah, i’m posted with angelus, all up in a beamer
yeah, i make ’em run, i make ’em scream, ah
[verse 1: angelus]
i got the racks, i know that you see it
he want a verse, said he gotta buy it
you want the smoke, then you come and get it
step on my money, yeah, i’m on the midget
you copped a beat, don’t act like we kickin’ it
rub on your head, i know that you feeling this
i got my bands up, yeah, i made it
off of this gas, i’m feeling so faded
poppin’ first like faded black hair
i got the moncler on my jacket
he thought he was up, but he used to crack it
[verse 2: one year]
dirty, dirty, dirty in my cup, oh, yeah
promise you, i don’t give a f+ck, no way
sometimes i just care too much, okay
please just take all of my love away
racks on me, yeah, i count it
don’t need an accountant
three bands in my trousers
pop another downer
[verse 3: kurtains]
talkin’ down, i make they ass run
all talk, i don’t need no gun
always thinking ’bout me
talk, talk about me
yeah, you a fan
you getting scared ’cause i’m makin’ checks, ’cause i’m makin’ bread
how i’m doing this sh+t, you never see, you’ll never hear, yeah
why you all in my face?
see me succeed, now you’re all getting p+ssed
you get so mad, keep having these fits
while i’m in the back, chill out with my sp+ce
with my bros
[chorus: kurtains]
yeah, don’t f+ck around
’cause i brought the sticks, i brought the stones
i put the chopper right up to your dome
you know the chrome, it’s bleeding your nose
i ain’t got time, for none of these hoes
pull up with a strap, i’m makin’ ’em fold
makin’ ’em dance, makin’ them diddy though
big racks, i stuff in my fendi bag
feel like a xan, hop in my outside
i got a check, checking my vibe out
running your mouth, end up in a volvo
yeah, i’m posted with angelus, all up in a beamer
yeah, i make ’em run, i make ’em scream, ah
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