paroles de chanson Hit the Dash - S0K0

Damn, Donny made this

Paid a thousand for my fit, bitch this drip insane
Hit the dash in the SRT, I'm switching lanes
Flexing cash when I walk through, had yo bitch amazed
I don't know why lil' bro trying to rap, he ain't got shit to say
You might get some bags but I get more, at a faster pace
Why the fuck you talking about blicks, you ain't got a strap to spray
Bro was talking crazy, went out like a bitch, yeah, it's sad to say
Ain't no snapback or no fitted, ain't no cap today
Hold on I, need a couple thousand just to walk through
Finna block yo number ain't no lames that I talk to
I ain't even get lil' bro whacked yet but I ought to
I really fuck with lencis so I copped two
I might drop 50 or 100 then I drop you
The crowd don't move when you perform, we make the spot move
Why the fuck you talking, asking questions like the cops do
Why the fuck I chase this bag, 'cause I got to

How the fuck I make yo salary in two weeks, bitch you thirty three
Bitch I kill any fucking beat first, second, third degree
Yo bitch is my number one fan, how you ain't heard of me
I blow my racks fast 'cause saving 'em really burden me
In this fucking Track, hit the gas then I burn the streets
Lil bro just snapped I said bet it's my turn to eat
I'ma beat the case, give a fuck 'bout the attorney fee
He be talking shit but he a pussy, it don't worry me
Bitch I just stay focused, eyes open like it burns to blink
Bro got mud up in his cup, yeah, he sipping a dirty drink
Lil' bro is a motherfucking fiend, popping like thirty pinks
Bitch I got the drip, don't let it drain like a sturdy sink
Hold on, I might take a motherfucking plane out to Dubai
I don't fuck with you 'cause you a lame and you lie
Bitch I'ma blow up and get the fame in due time
Play about my money or my gang then you die

Play about my fucking gang you a dumbass
Why the fuck you talking about cash, you don't touch racks
Lil' bro said he more up than me but that's such cap
Bitch I eat beats everyday and I won't cut back
That bitch is a thot and she lying, why you cuff that
If you need a verse need couple hundred, shit, plus tax
Bitch I done made a fucking killing off of drum taps
Chop make his lil' ass do the dash, make him run laps
Why I'm gon' get that bag, 'cause I'm determined
I had a SRT before I had a permit
New tires on the SRT, I'm finna burn it
Bitch we bring the heat, got me feeling like a furnace
Bitch I spend at least a couple thousand when I purchase
If you need fire on a feature, I'm at your service
Copped the SRT, couple years I'll need a Urus
Opportunity to get that bag, I run to it, I ain't nervous

He be nervous as hell, I heard his palms sweaty
18, finna touch a hundred, yeah, already
Y'all soft as hell, yeah, y'all the ones we call teddy
Bitch I'm eating gourmet food whenever Paul ready
Bro a chef in the kitchen, other bro chef with the beats
A+ all days if it's a test, I complete
Bro only aiming for the head so vest obsolete
They taking shit under they breath, they all opps to me
Bitch I know I'm at my best, ain't no stopping me
Why this hoe trying to kick it with me, ain't the soccer team
Bitch got good brain like she the daughter of Socrates
Bitch I touch paper all day, like I'm chopping trees
I always talk shit, if you my opp you better off blocking me
Bout to get hella rich then ima cop some properties
You finally hit ten racks, that shit ain't a lot to me
I just hit Somerset, we going on a shopping spree