paroles de chanson Boss Blues - Sauce Walka , Quin Nfn

Nigga, yuh, nigga
Yuh, yuh, huh

I lost granny I had to hit my knees
Diamonds on white tees
Walk inside the club don't need IDs cause we in V.I.P
Everything I did was B.I.G before a G.I.G
Nowadays it's Christian Dior sneaks but it was L.R.G (nigga)
Huh, ain't no need for searchin' we gone sneak him in
These niggas think this shit a game, this ain't no P.S.N
Now we got hit C.P.N apartment all on CNN
Free my brother Flame up out that cage, he bangin' G.D.M (free Flame)
We secured our time we been on our grind
I still talk to bros once at a time but I still hope they fine, yeah
Don't go reachin' for my iron cause I can't give you mine
Niggas hatin' but they probably some fans
Need to make up their mind, yeah
I got rich outside of school without a G.E.D
We was watchin' PBS but now we visit B.E.T
All these diamonds VVS look like I signed with TMT, huh
Sittin' proper with this chopper, call me NLE
Huh, huh, dozin' off of Wock, I got a mean habit
I just spilled a tray of Trish' on this Givenchy jean jacket, nigga (ha)
And I can't spin with all my friends cause they might need practice
Ask my dawg to put me on a play he act like he ain't have it
Press and drank I call it double dose, we sell a bunch of smoke
Pull up on some MC Hammer shit cause you ain't touchin' bro
Pussy niggas tryna drop they nuts like they ain't run before
And on the stage, I'm fine cause I got iron inside a bubble coat nigga
Muggin' in the club you must not like the hoes
I just seen a dime over there fine, I told her strike a pose
Lil bro probably out his body he might wipe his nose (snotty)
I did this shit straight off the top like I ain't write before

All my hitters in the field this the NFL
Never do no business with no snitch cause we know he gon' tell
Have you all over ABC news over squeezin' shells
Catch a case for niggas that you love, turn they back, and fail
Used to fight at YMCA's then we fought in jail
Lost so many P's in the air, want to fight the mail
Breakin' in UPS trucks when we ran out of sells
Drop hits too hard I started pimpin' bitches then Chanel
Angels frownin' on me, why the demon smilin' on me?
Made a half a million dollars tried to share with my homies
The growth separate and my own men hated
It was my own team, me and my twin made it
Imagine being raised in the league full of killers
Money start to roll in, now you shootin' at your hitters
Cause they played wit' ya
Same niggas that you fed when they stayed wit' ya
Robbin' D-boys and pimps on the blade wit' ya
Fightin' other sets, really gang bang wit' ya
Now he is a lane switcher
That betrayal pain hit ya
They wonder why we flashin' all that money in these pictures
We survived the gutter nigga
Simple