Tafia - Pack Songtexte

Songtexte Pack - Tafia




I mean anyway you add it up, right?
We come positive
(Gangsta Grillz)
We come negative
Don't matter, it's gon' equal out
(Y'all niggas past niggas slatt)
Niggas always screaming smoke until you turn 'em to a pack (Damn it)
We peeped the play, he sent his bitch
We smacked her up then sent her back
You take something, there's no negotiating, we don't want it back
You got twenty-four hours to meet your maker
Bitch, you getting whacked (Let's go)
Thirty shots up in the clip up close, ain't no hit or miss
Bussin' with my arm on top my watch, had to guard my wrist
Throwing all these ones across the club
All you hear is swish (Pew, pew)
Serve a opp them hollow tips, just
Tell your dawgs, "Don't leave a tip"
Ridin' with them Dracos, catch a fable, make you lean and drop
Don't brag about no guns with me, we pulled up with like thirty Glocks
That heat pop, I'm bussin' 'til the heat stop
I crush a nigga, rerock, we cut through like D-Block (Lil' bruh)
Shootin' shit that sound off like a dump truck when I pull the clutch
Flipped him out the car, he almost made it but his leg was stuck
I'm coming masked up, I come gassed up if I pull a chase
Leave you assed up, I couldn't pass up, you was in the way
I'm a beast up in the jungle, you the ant behind the rock
Got to ballin', didn't fumble, the outcome was a icy watch
Icy chain, ice my wrist out, then ice my bitch out
I took seven years on a chimp, better not let that snitch out
This shit for real, I won't scare no nigga but I shoot to kill
I'm in the field, bitch, you ain't no gangster if you from the school
I'm cold for real, put my wrist around her and she got the chills
Had to feel, ass smooth like the head on Little Bill
Niggas always screaming smoke until you turn 'em to a pack
We peeped the play, he sent his bitch
We smacked her up then sent her back
You take something, there's no negotiating, we don't want it back
You got twenty-four hours to meet your maker
Bitch, you getting whacked (Let's go)
Thirty shots up in the clip up close, ain't no hit or miss
Bussin' with my arm on top my watch, had to guard my wrist
Throwing all these ones across the club
All you hear is swish (Pew, pew)
Serve a opp them hollow tips, just
Tell your dawgs, "Don't leave a tip"



Autor(en): Nikolas J Papamitrou, Emmanuel Alexis, Jaire Strickland



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