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rooga - blickathon lyrics

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[chorus]
we got drums, we got sticks
b-tch don’t run, you get hit
i fell in love with my blick
we been through all type of sh-t
ain’t no date, suck this d-ck b-tch
and that straight, this b-tch stick shift
you should see the way this b-tch trip
ain’t no ride home, you gettin’ a lyft b-tch

[verse 1]
walk up in the club i got my heat in that b-tch
standin’ on the couch i got my feet on that b-tch
givenchy head to toe me cuz i’m flee than a b-tch
my car is push to start don’t need no keys for that sh-t
b-tch i make you run
it’s a blickathon
i can’t rate that b-tch a 10 i give that b-tch a 1
now give my n-gg- some
until my n-gg-s c-m
you can tell these b-tches anything, these b-tches dumb
you brought yo biggest gun
we brought a bigger gun
ain’t no stingy n-gg- i’m gon’ give yo n-gg- some
christmas time came around, i bought my b-tch a gun
shorty chewed up on his d-ck like it’s a stick of gum
yeah i smoke exotics
and my b-tch exotic
and my car robotic
ain’t no question if i f-cked yo wife, that b-tch a boppy
ain’t no question if i got my pipe cuz b-tch i got it

[chorus]
we got drums, we got sticks
b-tch don’t run, you get hit
i fell in love with my blick
we been through all type of sh-t
ain’t no date, suck this d-ck b-tch
and that straight, this b-tch stick shift
you should see the way this b-tch trip
ain’t no ride home, you gettin’ a lyft b-tch

[verse 2]
got my blick on me, my stick on me, yo b-tch on me
don’t get blicked homie, i shoot until this b-tch on e
ain’t no shooting out no cars, i shoot this b-tch on feet
then we shoot straight to the block, now we back on d
b-tch i never care
we be everywhere
it’s a blickathon, we might shoot it anywhere
b-tch i’m never scared
i keep my weapon near
matter fact i’m double breasted, my sh-t come in pairs
soon as i walk inside the club i get to clutchin’
took my shirt off in that b-tch, that’s cuz i’m bussin’
b-tch n-gg- thought it was when it really wasn’t
soon as we left the club, we let off a dozen
we let off a dub (huh), we was off some drugs (huh)
we weren’t shootin’ out no whips b-tch we was walkin’ up
all my k!llas blood (huh)
make you cough it up (huh)
shouldn’t of mentioned foenem name, you shouldn’t have brought it up (b-tch)

[chorus]
we got drums, we got sticks
b-tch don’t run, you get hit
i fell in love with my blick
we been through all type of sh-t
ain’t no date, suck this d-ck b-tch
and that straight, this b-tch stick shift
you should see the way this b-tch trip
ain’t no ride home, you gettin’ a lyft b-tch



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