azlyrics.biz
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

shad da god - 420 lyrics

Loading...

god!

[hook]
420, smoke out the pound
b-tches and money, b-tches and drugs, enough to go round
b-tches and drugs!
b-tches and money and money and choppas and choppa rounds
b-tches and drugs!
b-tches and dope raw jeans they should’ve cropped the town
i’m living to count up the money
i’m living to count up the money
i’m thumbing and thumbing the hunnids (racks!)
i start count’ the muhf-ckin’ money (racks!)
i love count’ the muhf-ckin’ money (bankrolls!)
i’m living to count up the money (bankrolls!)
i’m living to count up the money
i start count’ the muhf-ckin’ money
i slow count the muhf-ckin’ money

[verse 1]
fast count it by the n-gg-, don’t know how to fast count it
if your thumb hurting, that’s how you know you was counting
where i’m from? b-tch i’m from ounces
i’m gon’ knee us a dish
jump out the porch with the work now we jump out the coupe cos the roof got no ceiling!
4 door wheel with the backdoor tinted window truck gotta hit ya hoe
f-ck you, hoe
n-gg-, f-ck you
n-gg- f-ck the judge, n-gg-
free lil ‘scoe
bankrolls got some jeans on ’em
maison got a lil lean on ’em
and the pocket rocket got a beam on it
and the audemar got a screen on it!

[hook]
420, smoke out the pound
b-tches and money, b-tches and drugs, enough to go round
b-tches and drugs!
b-tches and money and money and choppas and choppa rounds
b-tches and drugs!
b-tches and dope raw jeans they should’ve cropped the town
i’m living to count up the money
i’m living to count up the money
i’m thumbing and thumbing the hunnids (racks!)
i start count’ the muhf-ckin’ money (racks!)
i love count’ the muhf-ckin’ money (bankrolls!)
i’m living to count up the money (bankrolls!)
i’m living to count up the money
i start count’ the muhf-ckin’ money
i slow count the muhf-ckin’ money

[verse 2]
tote the champagne
pour up bailey (pour it up, pour it up!)
pour out the lean
they tell me i should’ve dropped
i’m f-cking a percocet fiend
she grown, let her p-ssy be clean
i’m riding with the stick on me
and i gotta hunnid in a magazine
got some pounds of the b-mbaclat weed
and nothing! nothing!
brought the scales on the low
got some bail on the low
got some head from ya hoe (got some head from ya hoe?)
n-gg- b-tch in the -ss, kick a n-gg- in the -ss with a margelia toe
in cali i og i blunt it
i really just f-cked up some money

[hook]
420, smoke out the pound
b-tches and money, b-tches and drugs, enough to go round
b-tches and drugs!
b-tches and money and money and choppas and choppa rounds
b-tches and drugs!
b-tches and dope raw jeans they should’ve cropped the town
i’m living to count up the money
i’m living to count up the money
i’m thumbing and thumbing the hunnids (racks!)
i start count’ the muhf-ckin’ money (racks!)
i love count’ the muhf-ckin’ money (bankrolls!)
i’m living to count up the money (bankrolls!)
i’m living to count up the money
i start count’ the muhf-ckin’ money
i slow count the muhf-ckin’ money

[outro]
tote the champagne
pour up bailey
pour out the lean
they tell me i should’ve dropped
i’m f-cking a percocet fiend
she grown, let her p-ssy be clean
i’m riding with the stick on me
and i gotta hunnid in a magazine
hol’ up, hol’ up, god!



Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS

Loading...