AWA

Baddest Thing

55
1
  • 2021.09.24
  • 2:40
AWAで聴く

歌詞

You the baddest I done seen in a while, ooh, my shorty, oh, oh Getting high, toting that iron every time that we ride, and you know, you know You the baddest thing I seen in a while, ooh, my shorty, oh, she, oh Oh, oh, oh, and she mine I swear to buy her anything to ease her mind In the dead end posted with that gang, toting on that iron And I'm bound to leave any nigga dead if they ain't mine And I jumped off the porch like You died when you were six deep I do the reaping I say murder, Blood, and throw big B's Hit the block and blow the curb up, Youngboy MJ, I got on six rings Six headshots for the coroners, tell 'em that we ain't use no beam Tell them fuck niggas they don't know me I know for a fact she don't know her nigga, but she know me And she on me Steady asking like, "Can you take me home?" Tell somebody anything I want, yeah H-O-L—D, huh, hold on me, yeah D-I-E, I've been needing some peace Uh, uh, drink on lean 'til I can barely breathe Bae, your head ain't working, nah, I need five to sleep Louis V bag made by Virgil, fuck nigga tried charging me sixty G's Twenty-five for the duffle bag, nigga still counting bands, baby, don't count on me Maybach ain't come with curtains, without tint, niggas still ain't seeing me Real gas bags, that's all I chief Two steps back, get off of me I've been up, yeah, all cheese I paid cash for that factory Hitmen, they be after me 12 tryna capture me Bitches planning on trapping me Fake rappers planning on blasting me For bro, you get assassin free Get blicked up, you try hacking me, yeah H-O-L—D, huh, hold on me, yeah D-I-E, I've been needing some peace Bae, your head ain't working, nah, I need five to sleep Louis V bag made by Virgil, fuck nigga tried charging me sixty G's You the baddest I done seen in a while, ooh, my shorty, oh, oh Getting high, toting that iron every time that we ride, and you know, you know You the baddest thing I seen in a while, ooh, my shorty, oh, she, oh You died when you were six deep I do the reaping I say murder, Blood, and throw big Bs Hit the block and blow the curb up, Youngboy MJ, I got on six rings Six headshots for the coroners, tell 'em that we ain't use no beam (EarDrummers) (Mike WiLL Made-It) (That money go for Myles)

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