
tse e2 - bb belt lyrics
[intro: tse e2]
yo, we back
we back with another one
i know, i know how i’m ’bout to come on this b+tch (mmm)
alright
[verse 1: tse e2 & tse vic]
twenty thousand ’round my neck, i let your b+tch touch it
n+gga mad that i done f+cked his b+tch, she caught his b+tch f+ckin’
if brodie pop up out the cut then that’s a big [?]
i’ma throw the lob, if brodie dunk that b+tch, gon’ have the gym jumpin’
bro gon’ up the 21, say i’m like tim duncan
i f+cked the wreck, b+tch, i don’t lock it up and now my wrist bustin’
if i had lost all of my stings, i be done stick somethin’
for a hundred dollars on these jordan 3’s, i be done kicked somethin’
b+tch, i love all of my stings, even my b+tch love ’em
if i’m gon’ beat her doonies down, i need a big [?]
n+gga mad ’cause i bе f+ckin’ on his b+tch, call me a b+tch f+cker
just popped a pеrc 15, b+tch, i’m a big buster
i’m chargin’ twenty for a high, i make a quick [?]
micro arp, this b+tch go through the glasses for a big [?]
i never trust a b+tch, a ho gon’ say it all, don’t tell my b+tch nothin’
or have a pretty b+tch go kiss a pretty b+tch, they in here fist f+ckin’
walked in with bb belt, came with the big buckle
like n+gga fight a .308, gon’ be a big tustle
i bust it out the whip and make the whip fumble
my b+tch be shootin’ out your b+tch and make your b+tch fumble (uh+huh, yop)
[verse 2: tse vic]
i would’ve threw another bag if n+ggas ain’t fumble
fast whip, but if i see an opp, i’m quick to bring thunder (alright)
19x with thirty shots, came with a great jumper
you cuffed an opp from off the block, i would’ve face f+cked her (alright)
i been ran and touched a hundred but i stay humble
them n+ggas tried to duck and hide, they heard the k dumpin’
for real, for real, i never gave a f+ck long as the pape comin’
your b+tch done walked in and got to choosin’ ’cause the chain bustin’
the opps be counterfeit, they uppin’ fake hundreds
he only reup on a zip, that n+gga fake dumpin’
your b+tch done left the ‘caine to me ’cause you don’t make money
better put up your pape’ up for them days in case the rain comin’
ah, godd+mn, i done cracked the trap phone and put a case on it
goofy n+gga died over an eighth, he tried to take somethin’ (b+tch)
like i’ll shoot from down the street and leave a brain busted
got twenty racks up on me now and it’s some play money (yop)
like you ain’t high off one perc’, you n+ggas stay junkies
broke b+tch done walked in, tried to f+ck, but her face ugly (alright)
where i’m from, these stupid n+gga died for tryna take somethin’
for real, i never gave a f+ck long as the pape’ comin’
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