paroles de chanson 9 O' CLOCK - 1eleven

(Let's go)
Look, fuck that boy, one to the head now he's layin' down
Track star, runnin' this shit since I've been around
I made it out, bitch you know I'm countin' bands now
I ran it up, back in my city I got fans now
9 O' clock
Feds walked in they was lookin for me
Hear that knock
Straight to the door, I was bookin' homie
I ran out the back, with that strap
Bitch I never lack
Leave you in the past with this mac, bitch I let it blast

I was just in P-town
I was with my homies, feels like all we do is geek now
Think I saw my ex bitch, oh my god, I'ma freak out
My second bitch was great
But I think that bitch for the streets now
I don't got, energy I'm sippin' on this lean now
Send my brother all my newest shit and that boy geek out
He said "If this shit ain't gon' get dropped I'll let it leak out"
Back thеn I was starting off, but shit just look at me now
(Hahahaha)
I-I-I-I was out in CO fuck a PO
This shit different it's my nеw shit
3 albums down, I got bitches on a cruise ship
We gon' fuck around and make a movie
Stanly Kubrick
This bitch said she like 'em skinny
Good thing I'm a toothpick
She said I done hit that shit so good it felt like 2 dicks
He was talkin shit well run up on me I got 2 sticks
I'm the hottest in my town so ain't nobody sayin' "Who's this?"
They hear 1eleven they start geekin out like "Ooh shit"
She hear 1eleven she start tweakin', said I'm too lit
Huh, guess she can't handle this
Gra-gra-grab her leg and she start meltin' like a candle stick
She said "Can we keep this on the DL?"
She so scandalous
But she went posted pictures of me, I ain't understanding this
She said "Let me talk to you"
Like Karen with some management
This bitch too up on me, nah for real
I just can't handle it
I ain't tryna ghost you
But you actin like a fan and shit
Really hope this bitch don't got no problems with abandonment
Huh, in that drop top, hot boxed coupe with a lil thot
Found this bitch when I was breakin' hearts I still do that a lot
Text me gettin' feisty almost like this bitch gon' wanna box
But we gon' fuck it out cuz we don't fight, no we don't fuckin talk
I pull out my strap now he won't fight I told him take a walk
Cause if he pulled one too I'd leave him leakin', watch his body drop
Bitch let's have a 1 on 1, no I don't need no body guard
That boy end up missin' now they wonderin' where the bodies are
Gang tote machetes leave you dead without no body parts
This 223 gon' hit you like a bus or a damn trolley car
I make holes in ones if you got golfin' then you'd prolly par
Your whole team took my swag
So on your block is where my copies are
(Uh, uh, uh)
I'm-I'ma send you up to heaven
1eleven tote that Smith & Wesson
Never learned her lesson
Did me wrong and she thought I'd forget it
I'm just out here flexin'
Brand new bitch I swear her pussy wettest
I switched up from passive to aggressive
Now these bitches get it
I been countin guap
I got my paper, bitch I'm foldin' lettuce
I be taking drugs like it don't matter
Bitch I'm young and reckless
Damn, I ain't slept in like a week, I'm so fuckin restless
I get off the perc bitch I'm a geek
Think you get the message

Look, fuck that boy, one to the head now he's layin' down
Track star, runnin' this shit since I've been around
I made it out, bitch you know I'm countin' bands now
I ran it up, back in my city I got fans now
9 O' clock
Feds walked in they was lookin for me
Hear that knock
Straight to the door, I was bookin' homie
I ran out the back, with that strap
Bitch I never lack
Leave you in the past with this mac, bitch I let it blast