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 #

xhapy – empty that clip! lyrics

Loading...

[intro: wonder]
b+tch
xhapy
cha, cha, cha

[verse 1: wonder]
pop out with the stick on me
stacks too fat, yeah, my thumbs might bleed
clutch that gat every time i speak
how you wanna go to back with a b+tch like me
you wanna get crazy, lil’ b+tch, i could get wild
you ain’t ’bout sh+t, you order your wings mild
i said i want beef, why the f+ck you order chicken?
said he wanted heat, i’ma take him to the kitchen, cha
my wrists say rollie, your b+tch don’t know me
b+tch suck d+ck, yeah, that b+tch know foreplay
the big racks on me, the b+tches all on me
f+ck a b+tch up if he ain’t comin’ with my money
[chorus: wonder]
dumb b+tch, if you f+ckin’ with me then you better run b+tch
not a choppa, not a semi, not a gun b+tch
i bring the fists if you gettin’ into somethin’
motherf+cker, motherf+cker, i’m done, b+tch
man, you b+tches don’t know style
rollie my wrist, you b+tches just look foul
i ain’t scared of sh+t but cl!ckedy+cl!ck+pow
you don’t know sh+t, you think i’ma pop out
d+mn, d+mn motherf+cker, i’m back
you talk about sticks but you don’t ever talk back
dumb b+tch, how you gettin’ me so mad?
you ain’t gettin’ sh+t, but you ain’t touchin’ these racks
don’t spend money apart from my b+tch
i just c+ck back and empty that clip
if he talk back, might get ya wrists split
that p+ssy lay flat, yeah, he ain’t ’bout sh+t

[verse 2: wonder]
if you pull up with a gat, you a b+tch boy
you gon’ have to run it back, gimme lip boy
i don’t ever get attached, you get hit boy
you gon’ make a b+tch mad with that sh+t boy, uh
take a b+tch to class, you know that we dropped out
take a b+tch to work, he already clocked out
[?] pressure, he come with the glock now
he ain’t got the money, i come with a big amount
i just pop out with the riches, you pop out lookin’ timid
i ain’t talk about a p+ssy b+tch in ’bout a lil’ minute
if it’s in my grasp then you know i gotta get it
[?] if you know i’m ’bout to spin it, uh, uh
two two threes, rollie my wrist
i don’t move with a b+tch, if he pull up he get clipped
i knew you already know i’m all about the sh+t
don’t you come at me when i be stackin’ money with your b+tch
baby gettin’ mad, i’ma pull up with the racks
he just got [?] now we send him to the back
i don’t ever lack, we gon’ take him off the map
i move independent, keep my money in a stack
f+ck, b+tch, i’m back, big facts
don’t talk that smack, you gon’ get smacked
don’t talk ’bout racks, now your b+tch mad
f+ck, b+tch, i’m back, big cash, b+tch
[chorus: wonder]
du+dumb b+tch, if you f+ckin’ with me then you better run b+tch
not a choppa, not a semi, not a gun b+tch
i bring the fists if you gettin’ into somethin’
motherf+cker, motherf+cker, i’m done, b+tch
man, you b+tches don’t know style
rollie my wrist, you b+tches just look foul
i ain’t scared of sh+t but cl!ckedy+cl!ck+pow
you don’t know sh+t, you think i’ma pop out
da+d+mn, d+mn motherf+cker, i’m back
you talk about sticks but you don’t ever talk back
dumb b+tch, how you gettin’ me so mad?
you ain’t gettin’ sh+t, but you ain’t touchin’ these racks
don’t spend money apart from my b+tch
i just c+ck back and empty that clip
if he talk back, might get ya wrists split
that p+ssy lay flat, yeah, he ain’t ’bout sh+t, b+tch



Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS

Loading...