paroles de chanson I G0 4 - Doperman

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
I go first sunset of beach
Imma pounce down
Just to pop you i dont need no reason
I call it muder of life
You gonna give it away 'fore you take some
Lumpsump, so i took the lump sum
Breadstick to the crumble
This aint for the fumbles
Gotta go focus on bag
If it asks for hunned times, i run it back
I was just stuck on the Westside
Two guns on me, never lack
That muhfuker just sold me high
You know that i'm taxing
Elite class glass math
Doin in this dexter's lab
This cargos, not packs up
Boy get your racks up
It aint baggy jeans, it's kingdom of the hearts
Heart with elaborate scheme of sins
Complicated things on line
Lab rats gonna left
Did you put the disk
Still consuming all this space
Like you asking like who's next
Duplicate no trace
Butterfingers no tracer
Bandicoot no crash
Always watchout on the back
No this is not the end
This the end of yours
Cornrows looking corny bro
Got this Dior when i was horny yo
Said i swear all these Marni goals
Be on my particles
I don't go to parties bro
I don't go to parties bro
I got this plan and it's dynamo
I go first sense of the beach
I can feel a cluster in my mind
Getting me so flustered all the time
Need some money and some drugs
I'm gonna face it on the line
They trynna bury me under dirt
Cuz i tell you truth that you never heard of
Twenty grand, that's what i give to muder
Just to keep his mouth shut
I'm back with some solo guitars and some guns
Devil may cry, we having me
But lil boy we not playing, not at all
You ain't got a problem, we still gonna solve it
Oh what do they call it, yeah they call it wrath
God of war 3 yeah yeah i'm back
Givenchy on my eye's bag
I got eye bags
Working long night shifts, i got these biceps
I got the ponzoes
I got the schemes
Get that boy to running jumping jacks, he gonna cream
I ran the rabbit, call it rax racket
Tax bracket i throw the racket
At your fucking dad
I dont do the combat
I fuck the math
I kill the rats
Lose ends never tied, so i got some racks
Pushing money to work work
Broke ass money i don't like like
Broke ass funny i don't like like
Broke ass funny i don't like like
Why you taking how i'm thinking
I'm stuck on some better things
Dangeroous like Bellic Niko
Glued to my la-la lands
I go jump straight to the league
I saw it's paper it's all Ds Ds
In my paper it's just Gs
So many racks i'm calling me Jesus
So many racks i'm calling me Jeses
Jeez jeez jeez jeez
Gather all thes cheese huh
Gather all the cheese, but for what?
I don't know
So i gather all of Gs
Like devil onto me
And g0d by my side
I can't decide
I pop all the wrongs
I pop all the wrongs
Lil boy we can go rounds
Lil boys smoking on blunts
You gone finna get spun
One hour and its done
But i know you got none
Dads to their son
Sex everyday bitch i'm feeling like nun
I pop his head off armor crate up
Like it's deuce booth in thier mouth
Buss!