Bodega Bamz - Where Ya Horns At Lyrics

Lyrics Where Ya Horns At - Bodega Bamz



Just a thug, baby
I'm just a thug, baby
They force my hand though, Ohla
Tryna be real cool and all that
What you expect though, pa?
If I ain't the best motherfucker then you call him out to me, man
I done came up in this motherfucker
Yo, yo, Tanboys, Papi
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Deal in the middle of [?]
Connect name Sesa, just bring extra
I don't fuck with ya, I just might hit ya
You might get zipped up, your soul get lift up
I used to chill on the block with O and [?]
I still do but now it's in a blue convertible seis
Cash rules everything, must go in a safe
Pedal to the floor just in case we go in a chase
You never had weight, you never had a spot
Low from the cops, fiends coming every damn day
You ain't got killas, you ain't never bought cocaine
On your pinky finger, tell me how it taste
I really backed up, I really carry guns
Two machetes on my wall, cut it out, son
I ain't never scared, I ain't never run
Ask [?] who the fuck used to bring the guns
.38 special, Mossberg in the trunk
Look me in my eyes, motherfucker play dumb
You a bitch nigga, call 9-11
We ain't dogs, raise Hell just to go to Heaven
You tryna pluck who? I ain't got feathers
I bring the whole East Harlem right to Parkchester
Papi bad news, they wanna regroup
You ain't a boss, [?] shoes
You got a driver now, real comfortable
Real fucking cool, nigga, real fucking cool
I made my own wave, I got my own hood
I wish you would, man, I wish a motherfucker would
Tell your driver that I said, "Chill out"
'Cause we all know what he's all about
You tryna make a [?], well he ain't the route
You wanna copy so much, put these in your mouth
Make it cinematic with these automatics
Make it cinematic with these automatics
Make it cinematic with these automatics
Make it cinematic with these automatics
They don't rep the city, they don't go hard
They don't rep the city, they don't go hard
They don't rep the city, they don't go hard
Nobody, n-n-nobody fuck wit' y'all
I ain't never suck dick, my nigga
I played my position and my role to the fullest
And that's why I'm the motherfucking best
(Yo, these niggas is soft!)
If I'm lying, tell me
(Yo, these niggas is soft!)
I'm as humble as pie, but you motherfuckers reaching, baby
(These niggas is soft, man!)
I never swag [?] another man
This Tanboy shit is all fuckin' real
(Everything you hear, I live!)
I'm lying!?
(I made these niggas [?], Ohla)
Tell me I'm lying, baby, ha ha, ha ha
(These niggas is soft!)
(Tanboys, Tanboys, Tanboys, Tanboys)
(East side, nigga, Tanboys)
(U-God, what up? [?], what up?)
(East side, what up? East side, what up?)
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?
Yeah, you came up, where my horns at?




Bodega Bamz - Strictly 4 My P.A.P.I.Z.




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