paroles de chanson Retaliate! - August $antan
(You,
You
Think
You
Famous)
Aye,
Yuh
Aye,
Yuh
Aye,
Yuh
Aye,
Yuh
Aye,
Yuh
Lil'
August
Grown
ass
man
steady
worried
bout
me
cause
I'm
fucking
his
daughter
Yeah,
two
30s
on
me,
better
call
the
police
cause
the
bullets
just
caught
em
Chrome
hearts
all
on
me,
red
bottom
my
feet,
young
nigga
just
bought
em
If
you
got
a
problem,
my
nigga
come
solve
em
We
fucking
this
bitch
and
she
straight
out
of
Harlem
Get
to
the
chicken
like
Ronald
McDonald
Splitting
the
pounds
of
the
gas
in
a
column
You
think
she
loyal,
that
hoe
keep
on
callin
But
I
don't
blame
her,
a
young
nigga
ballin
When
I
pull
up
we
ain't
doin
no
talkin
Beat
up
the
pussy,
she
limp
when
she
walkin
All
of
her
friend
are
birds,
they
flockin
Staying
the
night
is
a
line
that
you
crossin
No
wonder
why
all
bitches
keep
stalkin
I'm
a
young
nigga
with
racks
in
his
pocket
Young
nigga
shoot
out
your
eye
out
your
socket
Call
you
Kakashi,
y'all
niggas
stay
copying
Wanna
run
down
on
me,
nigga
come
try
it
then
All
of
my
niggas
pull
up
like
a
fireman
Wanna
be
gang,
just
check
the
requirements
Trynna
diss
me,
put
you
in
retirement
Yeah,
I
just
bought
a
Vette
All
my
diamonds
wet,
ah
yeah
Put
yo
hoe
in
check
She
gone
give
me
neck,
ah
yeah
Came
up
on
a
check
Made
yo
lil'
bitch
wet,
ah
yeah
They
say
what
the
heck
Yeah
Lil'
August
next,
ah
yeah
Biscotti
my
lungs
I
love
when
they
run
Shootout
for
fun
I
bought
a
new
gun
19x
go
right
through
yo
lung
It
hit
him
he
done
Tell
the
haters
begone
Shoutout
Dion
20k
in
a
month
219
nigga
hit
him
with
a
hunnit
round
drum
Grown
ass
man
steady
worried
bout
me
cause
I'm
fucking
his
daughter
Yeah,
two
30s
on
me,
better
call
the
police
cause
the
bullets
just
caught
em
Chrome
hearts
all
on
me,
red
bottom
my
feet,
young
nigga
just
bought
em
If
you
got
a
problem,
my
nigga
come
solve
em
We
fucking
this
bitch
and
she
straight
out
of
Harlem
Get
to
the
chicken
like
Ronald
McDonald
Splitting
the
pounds
of
the
gas
in
a
column
You
think
she
loyal,
that
hoe
keep
on
callin
But
I
don't
blame
her,
a
young
nigga
ballin
When
I
pull
up
we
ain't
doin
no
talkin
Beat
up
the
pussy,
she
limp
when
she
walkin
All
of
her
friend
are
birds,
they
flockin
Staying
the
night
is
a
line
that
you
crossin
(You,
You
Think
You
Famous)
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