Letras

C-c-coming from the next lane

Death 'round the corner you don't know when it gon' creep up
I lost my niggas since then I ain't been sleep much
But if I hear you got that belly you gon' eat up
I tell my lil' nigga I ain't no preacher

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Before these bitches, get this money, don't please her
I'm on the strip dodging all of them police trucks
I free my niggas that all of the police took
I'm smokin' a flavours, non of that amnesia

My niggas tellin' me to drop a mixtape
But I be on the street, tryina get a quick chain
Yeah smoking on this cannabis
My bro he stay strapped like a Cali' spliff

I'm gettin' high, gettin' stoned
You don't know my life or my story
Nigga why you lie you ain't on
RIP Gully yeah my bro he

I heard that I did up on my lonie
Niggas said they got me yeah they lied I don't need 'em
Had to crop you out the picture 'cause you look fugazy
Whole lotta smoke if he ever try to snake me

All I need is lag I ain't tryna catch no cases
All this Hennessy got a nigga goin' crazy
Broski got the hammer just in case they moving shady
Whole lotta smoke I ain't talking 'bout no flavours

Death 'round the corner you don't know when it gon' creep up
I lost my niggas since then I haven't been sleep much
But if I hear you got that belly you gon' eat up
I tell my lil' nigga I ain't no preacher

Before these bitches, get this money, don't please her
I'm on the strip dodging all of them police trucks
I free my niggas that all of the police took
I smokin' flavours, non of that amnesia

Like tell a nigga take time now we can't be friends
Added E-F to the B now I beef them
I never had it so niggas gettin' eaten
Heard you on my case so it's tryna make me sea sick

Aye, flipped out the apartment I roll another blunt
Tell you what I do I be on the block gettin' money
Rush home, raid me, supply in the mainstream
Bale' wear, Gucci card, just a bag of fake jeans

And if I hear you got that belly get your tummy tucked
Luger say she'll pepper beef better know how to cook
I ain't on this shootin' shit will line up B a Marksman
And you know we never missed a target

All I need is lag I ain't tryna catch no cases
All this Hennessy got a nigga goin' crazy
Broski got the hammer just in case they moving shady
Whole lotta smoke and I ain't talking 'bout no flavours

Death 'round the corner you don't know when it gon' creep up
I lot my niggas since then I haven't been sleep much
But if I hear you got that belly you gon' eat up
I tell my lil' nigga I ain't no preacher

Before these bitches, get this money, don't please her
I'm on the strip dodging all of them police trucks
I free my niggas that all of the police took
I'm smokin' flavours, non of that amnesia

Writer(s): Idris Abby, Frederik Terkildsen

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