sematary - 4 in a faygo lyrics
[intro]
haunt+o+holixxx
gettin’ top in that droptop with the top off
f+ck a cop, make my sawed+off blow his head off (du+du+du+du)
f+ck a opp, in that droptop with the top off
f+ck a cop, make my sawed+off blow his head off
gettin’ top in that droptop with the top off
f+ck a cop, make my sawed+off blow his head off (du+du+du+du+)
(hauntaholics, you b+st+rd!)
what up, anvil?
moundrich season, ho
grave man on the beat, make it go insane
grave man, woo, woo
haunt+o+holixxx the mixtape, b+tch!
pour a four in a faygo, grave man, grave man
yeah, go (3am gang)
moundrich, b+tch
[chorus]
pour a four in a faygo ’til my mind slow
pop three, b+tch, i pop four, oxycodone
ride slow with my scarecrows, and they all go
psycho, we some psychos, better off alone
rust cohle, feel like rust cohle, i see real ghosts
stay true, gotta stay true, got a filthy soul
fly though, i stay fly though, my haunted mound polo
all alone at the party, bеtter off alone
gettin’ top in that droptop with thе top off
f+ck a cop, make my sawed+off blow his head off (du+du+du+du)
f+ck a opp, b+tch, h+ll nah, he get curb stomped
mound boss with my bands up, laughing at y’all
shawty, looking hot as f+ck, dance to this old song
party, that boy talk tough ’til he see my gun
smoking and we rolling, back of the he+rs+ truck
going dumb, yeah, our brains gone, we don’t give a f+ck
[bridge]
we don’t give a f+ck, we don’t give a f+ck
yeah, yeah
haunt+haunt+hauntaholics
[chorus]
pour a four in a faygo ’til my mind slow
pop three, b+tch, i pop four, oxycodone
ride slow with my scarecrows, and they all go
psycho, we some psychos, better off alone
rust cohle, feel like rust cohle, i see real ghosts
stay true, gotta stay true, got a filthy soul
fly though, i stay fly though, my haunted mound polo
all alone at the party, better off alone
gettin’ top in that droptop with the top off
f+ck a cop, make my sawed+off blow his head off (du+du+du+du)
f+ck a opp, b+tch, h+ll nah, he get curb stomped
mound boss with my bands up, laughing at y’all
shawty, looking hot as f+ck, dance to this old song
party, that boy talk tough ’til he see my gun
smoking and we rolling, back of the he+rs+ truck
going dumb, yeah, our brains gone, we don’t give a f+ck
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