paroles de chanson Reform School (feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$h & Domo Genesis) - Boldy James feat. Earl Sweatshirt, Da$H & Domo Genesis
I'm
a
lunatic,
I
got
5 on
it
once
the
doobie
lit
We
was
lockin'
my
room
door
stuffin
the
Boosie
clips
Runnin'
with
hooligans
I
put
in
my
work
Wipe
the
slugs
and
guns
off,
with
the
tip
of
my
shirt
Two
.23's,
when
we
ride
on
our
enemies
And
hit
em
up
if
they
don't
hit
me
up
first
And
my
army
fatigued,
it's
still
gunpowder
on
the
sleeve
Niggas
get
shot
every
day
B
pull
down
ya
skirt
Before
I
lift
it
up,
show
the
whole
world
ya
pussy
And
how
you
niggas
been
some
bitches
since
birth
Cause
we
them
Sig
Sauer
boys
hittin'
em
where
it
hurts
Twistin
nigga's
cap
back
and
pop
a
nigga
With
a
squig
and
a
squirt
He
dug
his
own
grave,
I'm
just
revealin'
the
dirt
Got
some
bullets
to
chase
a
nigga,
to
the
end
of
the
earth
Until
we
meet
again,
I
think
with
death
ima
flirt
Give
her
that
old
evil
grin
and
my
devilish
smirk
Fuck
y'all
niggas
what
y'all
wanna
do
Bumpin'
my
new
shit
mobbin'
with
the
crew
Stuck
to
the
blueprint
and
ride
with
the
tool
Let
me
know
if
it's
a
problem
cause
the
solving
we
could
do
Dead
bullies
and
Red
Bull
is
all
in
his
stomach
With
a
couple
bitches
with
whom
relations
ended
abruptly
Grab
the
mickey
and
the
coaster
and
sit
it
Now
I
been
sober
a
minute,
ho
tell
your
soldiers
forget
it
Spit
it
as
cold
as
the
frigid,
dare
me
to
host
it
and
shit
Just
carry
the
flow
to
the
clinic,
carry
the
coast
on
my
shoulders
Various
hoes
in
the
whip
and
they
blowin'
smoke
at
the
chauffeur
Carry
the
dope
in
they
britches,
bury
a
foe
in
the
ocean
I
can't
help
it
it's
Tan
Cressida,
gram
sellers
Pantera
records
and
bodies
stuffed
in
the
damp
cellar
Far
from
the
fronting,
my
niggas
was
in
the
back
Yelling
cause
we
came
from
nothing
like
everything
that
you
can't
tell
us
Speak
soft,
sock
a
fan,
shut
the
camera
off
Ramp
camp
Camelot,
canon
cocked,
lick
a
shot
Bop,
bop
liquor
slosh
bottom
of
the
belly
Bars
lock
hard
hitting
like
they
squabbing
with
the
celly
Smokin'
over
green
Exhalin'
dragon
breath
up
out
my
nasal
All
the
staples
married
with
the
basil
It's
too
reg,
get
it
off
my
table
Way
I
pimp,
shoulda
stuck
withe
shrimp
Dick
stuck
to
her
lips,
the
money
stuck
to
my
thumbs
I'm
spittin'
rounds
like
a
drum
Bitch
said
that
man
was
a
bum
And
he
think
he
got
that
bag,
Get
her
high
and
dog
her
ass
She
telling
me
'bout
homie's
stash,
I'm
listening
up
and
roll
my
grass
Before
the
blunt
was
even
ashed,
I
hit
my
homie
on
the
jag
like
Just
got
the
word
on
what
the
lick
bring
Essex
Country
and
he's
sittin'
on
'bout
6 Ps
Is
you
'bout
it?
He
say
'for
sure'
and
we
bust
a
move
Riding
with
my
Top
Gun
like
Tom
fucking
Cruise
No
license
behind
the
wheel,
blowing
red
signs
I'll
push
that
red
line
before
fed
time
Get
to
flippin',
write
a
verse
or
two
No,
these
niggas
never
heard
of
you
Denzel
in
Training
Day,
motherfucker,
I'm
getting
surgical
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