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 #

webbie - trilla than a bitch lyrics

[verse 1: webbie]
pants low, afro, no shirt, blowing purple, not a star just a regular old hood n-gga
vip full of hoes, full of rolls, we got guns in this motherf-cker now, b-tch that’s how we coming
a half a diesel, pack of cools, whole pound of kush presidential sh-t now that’s what we call blowing money
murder weapons: .357s, glock 9s, i ain’t lying b-tch that chopper hold a whole motherf-cking hundred
think before you move cause you don’t wanna move wrong
send your hit man, n-gga go put that tool on em (bop, bop, bop)
knock all his shoes off
i’m the savage, w-ssam, come on tell me who want it
cause we can crank it up
cause i don’t give a f-ck
where your people at? you better bring all of them d-ck in the booty -ss, coochi -ss, fake -ss ballers
you ain’t never popped nothin’, stop stunting b-tch
n-gga you ain’t seen nothin’, until you seen me
climbing out a tree, with a .223, what
i’m scarred up, ready for war, f-ck
i’m right here p-ssy n-gga w-ssup? get at me

[hook: webbie]
now i done did some f-cked up sh-t i ain’t go even lie
but i’m trilla than a b-tch and you can’t even lie
i beat that p-ssy like no other, b-tch don’t even lie
i’mma bad motherf-cker and you can’t even lie
now i done did some f-cked up sh-t i ain’t go even lie
but i’m trilla than a b-tch and you can’t even lie
i beat that p-ssy like no other, b-tch don’t even lie
i’mma bad motherf-cker and you can’t even lie

[verse 2: lil phat]
now i done did some f-cked up sh-t, sold n-ggas rabbit food
remember, remember i shot the wrong dude
such and such had sent me on a l!ck, i took the wrong tool
six shots i barely made it out a shootout
f-ck school
standing on the corner what we knew bout
some n-gga tried to play you then you better pull that tool out
and i done did some f-cked up sh-t, sold n-ggas cairo they look at and taste it but them n-ggas still a pay though
i say i’m tired of being slept on, don’t know about me
they gone f-ck around and make me bring that four up out me
and i ain’t stopping till i see the f-cking graveyard n-gga
rest in peace to your shooter don’t lose your graveyard witcha
they say i’m thuggin’ yeah, clutching yeah, all my n-ggas druggin’ yeah
play me then i’m busting yeah, end of that discussion yeah
be like youngin’, f-ck lil’ youngin’, he a dirty -ss b-st-rd
some say i’m p-ssy, some say i jacked they favorite rapper

[hook x2]

[verse 3: webbie]
i got my strap under my pillow, cause i feel like they coming
when they show up, it’s gone blow up, i’mma rip big holes in they stomach
i been running the streets for years, so you know i ain’t running
send some drama to your street, i’m obama in these streets
put that llama on you geeks, you remind me of sweets
go ask my teachers, i’m a bully, you just another police
she a suck it, i love it, she l!ck it all of me
grind up off and chill n-gga bring ya back outche
god. dayum. even though you tired these busters and satisfied till they -sses get sanitized
then they bring it on they self
then they -ss wanna cry
when the barrels of that pistol, look em right in they eyes
get my california buzz on, chillin’ with my cousin
coward -ss n-ggas gone make me put my gloves on
ion give a f-ck, i never did, i never will
and that’s how i f-cking feel
young savage, forever trill

[hook x2]

- webbie lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS