Chris King feat. Trippie Redd - GOD OF WAR paroles de chanson

paroles de chanson GOD OF WAR - Trippie Redd , Chris King



I'm shy, oh my God
Yeah
She say I'm her knight in shining armor, she say that she want me
Fendi, Louis, and Balenciaga, hold the chop' like Tony
Pull up to the block, they playin' possom, they don't even want it
Baby, it ain't trickin' if you got it, have 'em pay that money
Heard you talkin' crazy out your dome, I put a hundred on it
Niggas don't wanna go to war, you ain't havin' no money (yeah)
Pussy, I'm the God Of War, I'ma let it blow on me
I'm a motherfuckin' carnivore, you better run from me
Yeah
I like to eat on a snitch (haha)
Diamonds, they dancin' my neck
You talkin' that shit then you get a lil' TEC (bow)
Uh, don't try to test
Ayy, we down in school
She get a detention, no, she do not listen
Diamonds, they dancin' on me and they glisten
Draymond Green, palms itchin'
Bitch, I'm on demon time, I'm Palm Angels
Flex on a bitch, Kurt Angle
Hit from the back from a certain angle
She said that she hungry, take her to Bojangles
I wanted the Audi, Bugatti, the Wrangler
I can't save my ho like Django
.223 I'll let your brain go
Master Chief, I see them halos
She say I'm her knight in shining armor, she say that she want me
Fendi, Louis, and Balenciaga, hold the chop' like Tony
Pull up to the block, they playin' possom, they don't even want it
Baby, it ain't trickin' if you got it, have 'em pay that money
Heard you talkin' crazy out your dome, I put a hundred on it
Niggas don't wanna go to war, you ain't havin' no money (yeah)
Pussy, I'm the God Of War, I'ma let it blow on me
I'm a motherfuckin' carnivore, you better run from me
I'm so fly and see me in a Jag'
Diamonds water, y'all can see that I'm flexin'
Rockin' rings like the meanest who plex
Hit the jeweler, I'm flyer, like clean my Rolex (fly)
Cuttin' dope, girl, we needin' a stretch
Blowin' O's, it's relivin' the stress (blowin' them O's)
We get low then we hittin' your safe
We get low then we hittin' your face
It goes bang on the block every time I see a Brink's truck
Look at the Franck-o, or Cuban link
Got a nurse that bust scripts every time she see a Blood
That went over you head, get geeked up (ha)
Every day in her stomach and I'm 'bout to deeper
I go to work on that pussy, roll my sleeve up
Fill lungs with gas, don't crash, need a breather
She talk a lot and I don't believe her
We let it bang like I'm on the meter
Boujee little bitch, oh my, what a diva
I know you hit the codeine so don't try my liquor
Never let a buddy in 'less that's your mean plug (yeah)
If you gettin' money for sure, then we should link up
Pull up in that foreign you like, but with the cream up
I'ma the get the mop and the stick for the clean up
She be talkin' shit (yeah) on the pills but wanna beam up
She say I'm her knight in shining armor, she say that she want me
Fendi, Louis, and Balenciaga, hold the chop' like Tony
Pull up to the block, they playin' possom, they don't even want it
Baby, it ain't trickin' if you got it, have 'em pay that money
Heard you talkin' crazy out your dome, I put a hundred on it
Niggas don't wanna go to war, you ain't havin' no money (yeah)
Pussy, I'm the God Of War, I'ma let it blow on me
I'm a motherfuckin' carnivore, you better run from me
I can't explain, ooh, ooh
I can't explain, ooh, ooh
I can't explain, ooh, ooh
I can't explain, ooh, ooh



Writer(s): Roy Joseph Zenon Jr


Chris King feat. Trippie Redd - Ble$$ You
Album Ble$$ You
date de sortie
11-12-2020



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