paroles de chanson Bet Dat (feat. B3K 500) - WockStar JB

They said Red With Da Dotty got shot on the go
Don't end up like Freddy he dead in a hole
Like me and 500 gonna roll us a J
They calling me Chucky I ain't come here to play
We popped out the crib like this shit was a date
Dats funny as hell cause that boy was a bait
Gah, gah, gah, gah, gang, gang, gang
Gah
That's word to my mother I'll catch you on court
That nigga latino he getting deport
That nigga was runnin' like shit was a sport
She fuckin' me dirty, that girl got a wart
That's word, to my mother, get shot in your shit
I touch on her booty, I touch on her tits

That's word to 500, it's a devious lick
Like Creshaw, baby, I'm smokin' on dirk
Gah
Gah gah
Gang gang
Gah
You niggas keep talkin, we shot up your crib
Bout to get messy, that boy need a bib

Got 50 cars, I might need a new whip
We chasing you, nigga, you better not slip
I'm hard as a brick, now she suckin' my shit
I pull out my dick and she ready to spit
Gah
Gah
Gah
Gah
Gah
That boy is a Creshaw, he never on shit
I'm smokin' on Jacob, his girl, is a bitch
Gah, gah, gah, gah
Gang, gang, gang
Nigga get popped, get put in a casket
Shawty to touchy she touchin' my jacket
That nigga was dead, he got put in a packet
Callin' me Terrifier, you know ima slash it
That's word to my mother, get turned into blitz
I got hella clothes, you know how it fit's
I'm stackin' the money, you know I got grits
I'm fuckin' your girl and she doin' them tricks
Like, leave him like paper, you know that shit blink

I call up my shooter, he riving' in late
That's word to my mother, they cap in they rap
I'm ridin' with Key Marr, I'm keepin' it strapped
That boy is too goofy, got shot in his back

You mess with 500, get put in a pack
Like, creep' like a monster, ain't talking no inc
We cut off her head and get put on a plate
Like, call me the Terrifier, takin your life

These niggas be bitches, they givin' me strife
Gah
Gah
Fuckin' yo bitch, and that shit got destroyed
She suck on my dick and she try to enjoy it
Shot off the body, still known he was dead

Smokin' on Freddy, he got shot in the body
Nigga, got stabbed on the train like
Nah, G, can't say that
Drivin' a Urus, it's a Maybach

Shut up lil nigga, you not gettin' paid back
Speed on the highway, just like a racetrack
She suck on my dick, but she not tryna play that
Speed through your shit, we call it the fastback

Eddy and Miles, we just wanna go back
Talk about money, you know we got big stacks
Drivin' that Hellcat just like it's too fast