solja soulz - hoods hottest lyrics
[verse 1]
my yg love the swords like the romans
when i slid, i couldn’t show my face becah i know them
spinna or the berretta, my spin ting better
we’ll dint up your cardigan or sweater, p+ssy
[better not slip cos man know their face yana]
my yg love the swords like the romans
when i slid, i couldn’t show my face becah i know them
spinna or the berretta, my spin ting better
we’ll dint up your cardigan or sweater, p+ssy
n+gga i’ve been riding on these n+ggas since chucky
mad with the f+ckery, rip up mans centre like totti
fallowfield i do it for my poppy
i’vе been on this mad man sh+t like john gotti
i don’t blame them, [?] want thеir face on the m.e.n
sick with the words g i’m heaven sent
they’re only g’s for the media, snm
lol let em catch a sh+ll
they want me up in jail doing shower gels and my n+gga hit your ting and said your f+nny smells
you’re all up on the gram like you’re king kong
that’s one bag and singing like trey songz
my riders are hot like pepper sauce, i’m skatty with the words and the metaphors
finessing in the porsche down to newcastle
i couldn’t care about your shank, you’ll get side tackled
free my n+ggas in the bin, got the shank on the wing
true say he’s kinda slim, so i feel him
my snowflake chick caught feelings
how i left my [?] blood on the ceiling
i heard them bars that you wrote and it’s mad [?] for the dough
i [?] 18 bags in a row
you was acting like you’re colder than snow but you’re fake, you didn’t ride out when cousin got smoked
you tried to do me dirty for the roley
i had to do you dirty with the pokey
heard you wan ghost me with your broski
well sh+t will turn wicked and smokey
i heard you really wan poke, it’s 187 i’m a driller this ain’t a joke
talk like you mash work
where i’m from i’ll can ask kurt
i beat the drum like a black church
now it’s serial like lil durk
funerals are hot cah anyone can dead as well
claps when man emerge, anyone can get a sh+ll
man are singing like adele
man want me gone like makavelll
big l and big pon, summer time chilling with a big gun
splash a blagger blood like red rum
had me sitting up in jail, know i’m an ex con
expert, my long ting will make your neck hurt
you ain’t mashed work, my squad move like candyman
pull up on the block and start shooting like cameraman
caught a man, had him mixing words like an anagram
talking bout moss side but the .45 will leave a brudda c+ckeyed
go on toss him like a salad
you ain’t ever caught a crumb and had your yg’s patterned
this money boy, rich off a nitty
said if i don’t blow i swear down it’ll be a pity
this a team hb and lemon came sticky
i’m p+ssed fam, it’s been over 11 free [?]
i’m a known driller like m1
memories are [?] in this s1
had to do a madness in best one
had to burn my clothes cah i cheffed one
cheffed one, i could’ve cheffed 2
could have dead, i could have dead 2
i had the s sport audi looking crip blue
said she wan show me what her tits do, said she wan show me how they jiggle
my d+squared patterned like some skittles
she wan push a little me out the middle but she couldn’t trap me, i’m too official
you want smoke? you go inhale
she want me in the bed cah i been [?]
14 i popped my first sh+ll, 16 i seen my first jail
[verse 2]
my n+ggas whip whip and drip drip
in the club i couldn’t slip without my fl!ck fl!ck
brandy and rum cah i’m tryna get my d+ck l!cked
baby wan come cah i pulled up in a sick whip
pulled up in a white ting, drawn me a lightskin
greens on smoke cah its still an on site ting
tell em lowe the hyping, gassing and typing
2 cats smoke g, thunder and lightning
old gunner like bergkamp
it’s mad i’m still living so i give thanks
they wan wrap me like some cling film cah my .32 were spinning like some windmill
[??] green kawasaki, leave your top daquiri
pocket full of gwop, my money long like some akhi’s
they want to jump me like some battery
they wanna jump me like a taxi
how your mum become a crack fiend?
i made em wanna serve a [?]
i’m on the road like shaqman and asznee
been really tryna @ me
got em smoking crack now they’re mad at me
i just went dizzy off the hennessey
how my old friend become my enemy?
big blip, spliff lit
11 racks on the beamer, that’s a big drip
my n+ggas locked down and shout me if he needs sh+t
i got my jewels on cos i ain’t ever been sh+t
big hot steppa like big pon
chat sh+t and hold corn like best one
if you’re talking manny rappers, i’m the best one
swervin’ in the s1 playing teflon
it’s a mazza, i make the spinna ting spin him like mo salah
i can’t believe they got me strapped up to see my nana
i had to burn clothes on a clothes hangar
i couldn’t hug my nana cah the stick beam
came a long way from fist fighting with the gypsies
i wasn’t happy til’ i flipped p’s
i can’t [?] with no fake g’s
every ting was calm when i stepped in, cah they know the big man bag hold the weapon
revenge is sweet like cinnamon
one bag of shootings got me acting all innocent
he ain’t a shooter, he’s irrelevant
he wouldn’t sn+tch a soul from a skeleton
them man are chilling like amir khan
f+ck a opp tell him suck his mums peenarn
stay calm, i got the f arm
slip slide, i’ll discharge you for your best garms
ain’t no benefit being an s man
next time you slide, you’re guaranteed a dead man
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