Montana of 300 - Dancing With My Ak paroles de chanson

paroles de chanson Dancing With My Ak - Montana of 300



Dancing, yeah
With my AK
Dancing, yeah yeah with my AK
That's my baby, she go crazy
You don't want me squeezin' them hammers
My AK I feed it bananas
That's on baby I bet shit gone change
Once I wet yo ass up just like pee in a pamper
While you sleepin' I'm up like a Red Bull
Out the cut shootin' shit like I'm Deadpool
When this heater blaze
Your boy Jesus couldn't save you
If he graduated from med school
I like to dance with machine guns
This bitch got kick like it's wing chun
You gon' see Tony turn into Iron Man
Grab that pole then I slide like a fireman
I hope you fuck niggas bulletproof
I hope you niggas could duck fans
Hundred rounds when I pull out that AK
Then I let that bitch ride like a bus pass
They claim they beasts from the jungle
But when I come through they humble
No escaping it, who you gon' run to
Clip hang so low I call it Rapunzel
No punchlines boy I don't play no games
Put your ass in a box and they ready to rumble
Ain't no blockin' these shots
If your name was Mutombo
As soon as I cook he gon' crumble
Take a nigga straight to hell's kitchen
Shootin' lethal weapons like I'm Mel Gibson
With a mask on like I'm Casey Jones
Like the Ninja Turtles bunch of shells flippin'
I hope you get buck like you ridin' a horse
When I'm shootin' this bitch
I'm like Mike on the court
More like Mike in the fourth
I'ma fire this torch
When I slide to his crib
Like there's ice on the porch
Get popped like a wheelie, like he out in Philly
Get left, I'ma creep like I'm T-Boz and Chili
I'm ten steps ahead of y'all and when I let it off
I turn a opp into Cleo off Set It Off (easy)
Play around, lollygag
Big sticks, hockey mask
Choppin' shit, karate class
Slide 'em in, body bags
I got more guns than a pawn shop
My AK go off like [!]
My bullets cut nonstop
So tell your kids I'm no joke
With the stick I will Bomb Pop
I'm Ray Allen, Steph Curry I'm crazy with this
I told God I told y'all not to play with this
[!] know the reason I'm squeezin'
If he's understanding then he'll be okay with it
Haters just might get bagged like potato chips
I'm too smart I bet I get away with this
I aim at the neck and then squeeze
I ain't talkin' perfume I will spray this bitch
If you see me first bitch you better blow
You do not want smoke I ain't sellin' dro
I'm so cold with this K put a hole in your face
When I spray turn a opp to a eskimo
I do not give a fuck about five-o
When I roll up and blow that ain't hydro
AK blow more than wind in the wintertime
It got more kick than Foot Locker and Finish Line
Put a tag on your toe so they know the price
They get bust when I deliver overnight
Put bodies on the chopper no motorbike
I shot the crap out them bitches like rollin' dice



Writer(s): Walter Bradford, Dominique Mitchell


Montana of 300 - Pray for the Devil
Album Pray for the Devil
date de sortie
20-05-2018




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