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 #

surf - autopsy lyrics

[intro]
and we smokin’ opp pack, we gon’ turn him to some zaza
real popstar, man, i feel like lady gaga (bnyx)
ayo, ian (ayo, ian)

[verse]
uh (yeah), i’ma take it to the d
xanny help me fall asleep
i’ma throw that b+tch in deep
i been smokin’ on this za (za)
i need fifteen for a g
loud pack in the air (yeah), i can’t even hear me think
nah, we ain’t playin’ fair, tell that n+gga “check the score” (go)
i got numbers on the board (go)
i got n+ggas like a wh0re (go)
i don’t wanna see you breathin’, i’ma k!ll you at the morgue (yeah)
i’ma be the postman (yeah, yeah), i’ma see you at the door (ha)
i need money on me now (now), i will never come up short (no)
even though i’m from the south (yeah), i’ma takе it to the north
and we got a hundred rounds (woah), wе gon’ shoot ’em out the porch
my lil’ n+gga thirteen (yeah), already jumped up off the porch
i’ma stay on bouldercrest (yeah), but i got hoes in every state
i’m getting money every way (ha), i sh+t on n+ggas every day
my accountant said i’m countin’ up, i’m countin’ up the cake
and it’s f+ck a nine to five, to the bank, i’m never late (ha)
and you know i watch my step, b+tch, i’m never trippin’ (nah)
it don’t matter what i rep, my lil’ brother crippin’ (yeah)
how the f+ck that boy my son? i ain’t got no children (uh+uh)
i got dior across my chest but i am not no christian (uh+uh)
my brother livin’ in atlanta, he from michigan (yeah)
my n+gga play for alabama, we gon’ win again (facts)
he sendin’ shots right at my name but he ain’t sendin’ sh+t (dummy)
b+tch, it’s my last name, for real, i want them benjamins (dummy)
i ain’t have it on me then, i got my sh+t today (okay)
we gon’ run inside your hood and we gon’ renovate (okay)
i’ma put your main b+tch on my dinner plate (okay)
why he actin’ like he tough? we gon’ get him straight (okay)
i got n+ggas in atlando, they got mad ammo (okay)
i got soldiers, they be lurkin’, they got mad camo (okay)
n+ggas jealous, man, i learned it from the santana (yeah)
i just wiped off my bullets with my bandana (b+tch)
wait, hol’ up, wait a minute (woah)
y’all thought i was finished (why?)
when i got that new m3, y’all thought it was rented (how?)
flexin’ on these n+ggas, feel like popeye on his spinach (okay)
i feel like i’m neo in the matrix, b+tch, i’m in it (b+tch)
model x, and you know it came windows tinted (b+tch)
yeah, designer s+x, put you in chanel when i’m finished (b+tch)
when i talk to god, girl, you know i pray for forgiveness (b+tch)
i done wrong, when i said i’m sorry, girl, i meant it (b+tch)
yeah, why would i stop goin’ hard? i’m on top (why?)
yeah, designer my socks, it be gucci when i walk (okay)
i done fell in love with money, i won’t fall in love with thots (uh+uh)
i can’t fall in love with you, you think you bougie when you not (yeah)
and she hate my attitude, she be sayin’ that i’m c+cky (oh)
i’ll k!ll my own family, i feel like i was sasuke (oh)
and i promise he gon’ die if he ever try to rob me (oh)
we gon’ do that boy wrong, we gon’ give an autopsy (yeah)

- surf lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS