midwxst - crash it lyrics
crash it lyrics
lyrics from snippets
[chorus: midwxst]
my fit all black when i walk in the party ’cause we just might have to go up it
drivin’ the coupe, i might crash it ’cause i don’t give a f+ck, at this point i’m just like “f+ck it”
i cannot bring my new glock through the tsa checkpoint, i had to put that in my luggage
my brother keepin’ them sticks, he keepin’ that drum in the back but he don’t play percussion, yeah
[verse 1: midwxst]
four shots through, hit that boy in the head
we finna slide like this sh+t was a sled
blood on the glock, b+tch, that boy already dead
six times two in the mag’ for the feds
you wanna talk, say that sh+t with your chest
my shawty emo, i think she depressed
i get that girl ‘causе she said i’m the best
chеck her off of the list, now i’m onto the next
blade on my waist, i feel like i’m levi
that boy want smoke, that boy finna d+i+e
i know that boy wan’ be like me
uppin’ that drum, so the glock on e
wake up, count money, then i go to sleep
repeat that sh+t every day of the week
don’t pass him the blunt, that boy finna tweak
might smoke that gas, n+gga smokin’ them trees
shut the f+ck up
you got no money, not runnin’ it up
you wanna talk, but i know you not tough
not bluffin’ [?], then i’m callin’ your bluff
we kick in his door and we takin’ his stuff
might f+ck on your ex, i’m showin’ her love
we sendin’ that boy to the sky, to above
i step on your ass with some mo’f+ckin’ uggs
got all margiela, margiela on me
i got a vet’, i might talk on the team
you cannot f+ck with me, cannot compete
shoutout my [?], blood on my jeans
r.i.p. juice wrld, got blood on my jeans
got a new whip and it don’t need a key
if i got a new girl i’ll keep it lowkey, yeah
[verse 2: sgpwes]
…
[chorus: midwxst]
my fit all black when i walk in the party ’cause we just might have to go up it
drivin’ the coupe, i might crash it ’cause i don’t give a f+ck, at this point i’m just like “f+ck it”
i cannot bring my new glock through the tsa checkpoint, i had to put that in my luggage
my brother keepin’ them sticks, he keepin’ that drum in the back but he don’t play percussion, yeah
[outro]
risto, talk to ’em, slime
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