paroles de chanson #7 - Murdok Kaine

Right,

Slow-mo drive by
We got bread like five guys
Pop your biscuit pop-
Ahem,

Slow-mo drive by
We got bread like five guys
Pop your biscuit popeyes
You can't trip on my side
Money make you a fool, but it make me buy a redeye
Turn your shirt to tyedye
I been cursed since last night, right
Ayy, yo

What we do? Money Avenue 179 is where I grew
Fucking on your boo, you niggas tripping over thoots
I been paid my dues, I paid my fingers and my foot (Ayy, yo)
But you could never take my food
Money stack like Jenga, i'm forever chasing loot
Told her to do better, so I told her to do me
Money blue and green, this shit look like monopoly
Ayy, ayy
You sipping yellow
I been hella mellow since Lloyd Webber played the cello
Shoot him like LaMelo,
About my money like Mayweather
I been cold since birth I don't think I need a sweater
And I do not need her (Do not need her)
Put her feet up, when I fuck her from the front (When I fuck her from the front)
Smoking about a hundred blunts
How many of these your mans?
I think it just be them all

Ayy, ayy
Imma do these niggas wrong (do these niggas wrong)
Smoke em' out the bong, while i'm fucking on they mom (fucking on they what?)
No I never gave a fuck, put my dick inside her raw
While i'm sipping on Ciroc
Everyday we break the law, nigga