paroles de chanson 10 Minutes Of Shit Talking - S0K0

Yeah, yeah
Why you talking shit, we all know you lame
Tore out the coupe, yeah, it got a new brain
Ran up that bag quick, I feel like Usain
I just ran up a hundred thousand
Up in a mansion, used to stay in public housing
Yeah, bro said he gon' pull up, some shit I'm doubting, yeah
All this drip on me, pray to god I'm never drowning
Bro said he finna get lil' bro whacked, I don't doubt it
Yeah I really want them racks, give a fuck 'bout being clouted
I got too much damn money, I can't even fucking count it
Teachers used to bump my music in gym and accounting
Who is him that be talking and doubting? Shut the fuck up
Brand new GLE, tell my assistant pick my truck up
Way too much ice but I ain't never seen a puck once
How you say you getting cash but you go and tuck ones
Yo ass scared to get robbed, I got a pole lil' bitch
Dunking on these bitches like Zion, I play for NOLA bitch
Bro sipping Wock all day, don't even own a script
Up at the house kicking back, me and Capone we lit
Watch that Rollie gliss, it's hitting off the fucking clock
I think yo ass really gay, you stay on my cock
You ain't really know me bitch, why the fuck you on my block
Think you gon' catch the hands but you gon' catch the fucking glock

10 songs a day, I'm the number one hit maker
Why you talking 'bout racks, bitch, you don't get paper
Drop racks right at Somerset, take a trip later
Blowing racks, lil' bitch, I ain't a big saver
Used to simp for some bitches, nowadays they the ones I dub
At home making these racks, won't hit no fucking club
You think you really racked but you can't fuck with us
Pistol in my pants all times, no one I fucking trust
You getting passed, I'm in that SRT hitting a hundred
He be talking the most shit, when we pull up he get to running
Pissed at Benito's like why the fuck it's bussing
Pissed at these lame bitches like why the fuck you ducking
Pissed off on the fucking highway, y'all suck at driving
Why the fuck you talk 'bout pulling up, man, you suck at sliding
Diamonds hitting off the fucking chain, these hoes fucking vibrant
I'ma do what I want, don't need yo fucking guidance
Yeah, yeah, living like a goat
Chain ice on water, it be hitting, watch it float
I'ma go run up that bag, get what I'm getting, then I go
In a fucking Trackhawk, in a minute get a ghost

Yeah, yeah, the fucking Rolls Royce
Ran it up had no choice
Why the fuck you acting like you loud but make no noise
Why the fuck you talking yo shit in a low voice
Right in front of that bag, bitch I'm so poised
Right in front of that bag, bitch I ain't stopping now
If it's the slightest fucking challenge, you opting out
Hit 'em with that overhand right, it knocked him out
Balenciaga on me, yeah, that's the shit we copping now
I ain't even top 3, lil' bitch, I'm number one
Feel like DJ Khaled, make a hit then make another one
Diamonds on my chain, hitting harder than the summer sun
My bag so fucking huge, that bitch is cumbersome
You want the ones or some? Nah, you don't want no smoke
We be up in first, you in last, you a slowpoke
Bitch I got the AR, glocky what my bro tote
Wrist on fucking water but we don't got no boat
Told lil' bitch I need a yacht
He be talking hella tough until he get got
We be running up the bags, getting cheese a lot
Yeah, we at the fucking top, got to keep it locked
My bro keep a glock

Yeah, keep it for protection
Yeah, you ain't in the fucking spot, yeah, you ain't in the section
And my arms damn near fucking hurt from all this damn flexing
Like I said before when I walk in they feel my presence
Hopping in a Hellcat or Track, this ain't a Lexus
Get his ass beat but I ain't talking 'bout no Nexus
Bro was cracking cards, he was boosting, flexing
Bro went scored the drank right out of Houston, Texas
I'm on VIP, you ain't even on the guest list
That bitch she a two, how the fuck is that yo best bitch
Making bands right at the house, Breaking Bad on Netflix
Bitch I'm known to kill any beat, bitch I'm relentless
They can go and switch, I give no fucks, I expect it
Why the fuck you ran up bands if you don't flex it
Why the fuck you rocking Nike, you don't check shit
How the fuck is that hooptie yo best whip
Flexing on yo family and everyone you friends with
Cartiers on me, couple bands for my lens bitch
Yeah, in a truck, yeah, go and have that ten switch
Mud in bro cup, yeah, his number one beverage

Beverage the Wocky, the Tris, the Activis
You ain't really getting bands, why the fuck you acting rich
Why you talking hot, in real life you a pacifist
If I got the ball, bitch I'm scoring, I ain't passing shit
SRT engine it's roaring, you get passed lil' bitch
Diamonds on my chain, they be flooded, yeah, they had to gliss
My bag so fucking big, you couldn't even imagine it
Chilling with my twin in Trackhawks, we got matching whips
Told bro pull out yo Rollie, we got matching wrists
You be having lil' racks, you ain't having this
Hop up in a SRT, I race it with the baddest bitch
This a AR, bitch I got the fattest stick
You a fan lil' bitch, why you trying to talk shit
Walking up in Somerset but you ain't really bought shit
Feel like Rick Ross, walk around on boss shit
Think I want some new 'lencis, what they cost bitch
1,140, need a crib eleven stories
Only one bitch that I want, you'll never catch me up on Maury
Put my phone on DND now I be feeling just like Vory
Need to stay in yo own lane, yeah, not talking Tory

What's yo story, why you act like a bitch
I ain't stressing, bitch I'ma cop it if I like the whip
Really I'm just shit talking, because I like the shit
Snap harder than any one of y'all on the mic, lil' bitch
I been playing around I need to cop the Neumann
Why the fuck you talking about blicks, you ain't never shooting
Why the fuck you talking 'bout shit that was never proven
I only talk about wins because I'm never losing
Never take a L, bitch, I'm a born winner
Kill you if you run up, I'm a sure sinner
Eat this beat up, so hungry I need like four dinners
We in a Trackhawk, you more like a Ford spinner
You won't catch me in a F1, catch me in a lamb
Why the fuck you talking like my bro, no he not my mans
They be talking shit all day but I know they fans
They be talking shit like they coming up but I know they can't
What's the plan, take over the globe
Beat his ass, got the hands, feel like Glover, I'm cold
In New York I be shopping, hit Dover fasho
Won't stop, keep snapping, it ain't over, no no

Yeah, bitch, hell nah, not stopping, until I'm dead
Laser on this bitch green, but the dot red
He ain't really fucking with my team, he ain't got bread
Bro popped him a bean now his face is hot red
Bro said if they try to run up they get shot dead
You be pouring Tussin, that shit not red
Bitch brain so retarded but she not sped
I'm finna win, lil' bitch, that's what god said
Yeah, I'm finna win, I can't ever lose
Lot of people switching on they brothers, shit I'd never do
Met you twenty times but I still don't even remember you
Don't really give no fucks, fuck you if I offended you
I don't need a friend lil' dude, chilling with the whole gang
Why you talking shit, do you know that you a no name
Why you talking hot, do you know that you got no game
Why you acting tough, do you know that you is so lame
Bro came and went, I'm staying at the top
Only making hits that's what they playing when I drop
Lil' bro what the fuck you said, what you saying to the cops
You is not my fucking brother, you been hanging with my opps
Yeah, yeah, that's some hoe shit
Went to Icebox, put some diamonds on both wrists
Talking like a know it all but you don't know shit
How the fuck yo fit ten bands and you got no drip
Man I'm so sick, like I got the flu hoe
Chilling with the same team, I don't got no new bros
Lot of new sticks I done went and copped some new poles
You chilling in that whip with yo twin, I see two hoes
Yeah, 'cause y'all both some real bitches
If you want to see some money, come with me see real digits
Man my money up on giant, yo money real midget
Y'all be talking all that shit but tell me who done really did it
It's just me and the guys going fucking crazy
Crying about life, you a pussy, you a fucking baby
Hopping on tracks and snapping, that's what fucking made me
Don't talk about racks 'cause minimum I'm touching eighty
Yeah, nah, minimum I touch a hundred
Me and gang just been working, yeah, we up to something
Bitch I'm up right now, fuck up and coming
Play the whole game, 48 no fucking subbing
Ain't no sub-tweets, it's real beef I fucking at you
Honestly I'm humble but I'll flex if I fucking have to
I know why you mad, yeah, because I fucking passed you
Try to run up you get blocked, I just fucking glassed you
Yeah, blocked you like Hakeem on the Rockets
Point this glocky, got a beam, got a beam finna pop it
Yeah, life feel like a dream but I can't wake up, I don't stop it
You ain't with the team, ain't even in the fucking cockpit
Ain't in the moshpit, we turning up and throwing shit
I don't got to say that I'm snapping, they already knowing it
The party ain't lit unless me and all my bros in it
You got the plain jane, I came in with a frozen wrist
Finna go to VIP 'cause that's where I belong
Switch on me then it's over, you get cut just like you Song
We be living like some kings and you really just a pawn
I just really need my cheese then I'm out lil' bitch I'm gone, yeah
Getting up my money only thing up on my mind
Eat up beats just like I'm hungry and it's really time to dine
No you cannot get shit from me, why you all up on my line
In the past you tried to dub me, lil' bitch, you ain't even fine

Yeah bitch, you a silly hoe
You got that fake AP, my watch it's really froze
Me and gang finna touch a M then be the milli bros
Threw a Monclezzy on 'cause bitch I'm really cold
Monclez' or the goose that's Canadian
Bro going crazy off the juice, he an alien
Make hits everyday I'm in the booth, that's a daily win
Just be chilling with my troops, ones that made me win
Chilling with my gang, yeah, we all finna get rich
If I get caught with this AR I'll have to sit bitch
Y'all be fucking with the little shit, we got big whips
Fuck a ratchet hoe, I need a rich bitch
Finna touch a milli with my girl, we be really stacking
You be really cap all day, man, what really happen
Really I just be talking shit, I ain't really rapping
You make a song that shit ass, I be really napping
You be talking shit but you really passive
And you think you fucking up but you really past it
Yeah, Cartis on me, got some drippy glasses
Up in the stu, finna snap, finna make like sixty classics

Snapping all day, don't slow down, no slow motion
You don't got a strap, why the fuck is yo ass pole boasting
You ain't really on shit, you got no motion
Money heavyweight, it's strong just like Hulk Hogan
Money heavyweight, it's strong like Ngannou
If you fumble the bag then that shit on you
Copped the 'lenciagas, need the Louboutins too
Bitch I'm number one, yeah, fuck a top two
Told bro I got you, if you ever need something
I ain't worried about money 'cause it keep coming
Ran it up, it's coming too fast, I got to keep thumbing
You be saying hella shit but it don't mean nothing
You a whole pussy, why the fuck you mean mugging
If the cops ask me a question, I ain't seen nothing
Sticks hitting, yeah, it sound just like we drumming
They can keep talking, bitch I'ma keep stunting

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep talking, got deep pockets and we popping
Lil' bro talking tough but he a fan, I know he watching
They envious as fuck, yeah I know they gon' keep watching
Bust down watches, yeah, I got that bust down AP
I done took his bitch, I took his bitch that's why he hate me
Tote that big ass AR, it's ready to go, it got no safety
You done got exposed, you a whole bitch, why you talking crazy
Love to get that money, lil' bitch, yeah I'm a addict for it
Up in that G-Wagon lil' bitch, this a Brabus floor it
Bro used to trap off the Tussin, but now he active pouring
We be drag racing, lil' bitch, in the fastest foreign
Up in the fastest foreign or the newest Track
Lil' bro claim he was clouted, he walked in I said who is that
If lil' bro go try to run, then my bro gon' shoot his back
I won't listen to yo song because lil' bro, you is wack
Truest facts they ain't ready for, bitch the truth hurts
Uzi on my side, I might go out and cop some new verts
How the fuck I spent yo check right up on two shirts
Hop on any beat I spit that fire, make my tooth hurt
Yeah, you spit bars but don't say shit, you need to stop rapping
You be talking shit but you be lying, need to stop capping
You be talking shit like you done ran up, it did not happen
If you hear some noise that be them sticks, no we is not clapping

Why the fuck would we clap for yo shitty ass performance
We be really in the city, yo ass act like you a tourist
My bro went and doubled yo salary just running off of Tourent
I'ma snap on these beats everyday, not too long I'll be touring
Yeah, selling out these shows never selling out my soul
And if cops ask me some questions I ain't selling out my bro
If I see that bag right in front of me I'm yelling out let's go
Biggest bag chaser only thing I want on my headstone