paroles de chanson Kill It - Ambush Buzzworl

Yuh
'Cause I burn a boy like a do on
(Ain't even in my lane, boy)

Yuh, it must be 'cause I'm gettin' on
It's like most of the ends don't get along
But my money's on me, who you bettin' on?
You can call me Young D or Teflon
'Cause I burn a boy like D on Stefflon

Yeah I'm steppin' in, and I'm steppin' on
And I'm steppin' out, and I'm gettin' done
You know my mates, you know exactly who I get it from
And the youngers know exactly who they get it from
We the plugs and they know exactly who they get it from

You ain't even in my lane, boy step along
Blood, it's getting long
'Cause my gun is long, and my money long
You're a funny don (funny don)

I ain't fucking with no funny nigga
Imma getting money don
Huh, real niggas getting money, tryna build shit
The game ain't a race, it's a marathon

So I'm juggin' and I'm
Yeah I'm chuggin' and I'm
Get to whippin' and I
Let it look and then I
Get a shotty 'cause I'm a shotter
Up and down, in and out the block-a

Ain't no cap in my music
Blood I said what I said, if the shoe fit
Niggas wanna act like they're lost 'til I lose it
Don't make me prove it ('cause I pull up in a-)

What?
'Cause they got me in a booth on booth shit (got me in a booth shit)
If my niggas don't slide, they ain't B, gon' pull up and shoot shit (gon' pull up and bye)
Get nicked, go jail, tell the judge, "I just wanna do music" (I'm an artist)
Twenty bags for my bail 'cause a nigga just wanna do music

Yeah, it must be 'cause I get about, yeah
Area boy and I'm steppin' out
Yeah, you're still in the ends, I'm jettin' out
Couldn't fill half the room, man's sellin' out
Haven't even seen half the food, man's sellin' out
But it's sellin' out, I ain't sellin' dunes, and I ain't sellin' clout
And I ain't sellin' out

This is C-Town, weapons out
You know, get 'em down, get 'em down
Did I lick 'em, did I?
Did I rob 'em, did I?
Did I jook 'em, did I?
Did I shot 'em, did I?

Yeah, it's all goin' on 'round here
Can't even make a song 'round here
So I don't need to drill rap, for him to feel that
This is real rap
I got PTSD, how the fuck they gon' heal that?

And a lot of niggas dead for them niggas, don't feel that
Want love from these streets, you ain't ever gon' feel that
No love for police, I ain't never gon' feel that
Didn't want me on the streets, or the beats
But they want me in the jail like these neeks ('cause I pull up in a-)

What?
'Cause they got me in a booth on booth shit (got me in a booth shit)
If my niggas don't slide, they ain't B, gon' pull up and shoot shit (gon' pull up and bye)
Get nicked, go jail, tell the judge, "I just wanna do music" (I'm an artist)
Twenty bags for my bail 'cause a nigga just wanna do music