| yus gz - on hots |
| 1 | yoshi grrah, like grrah grrah, grrah every opp shot yozora like, grrah grrah, grrah everything dead like grrah, like bow, bow every opp shot, like grrah, like everythingk smokin' all deads grrah, grrah doak new opp grrah, grrah smokin' all deads everybody shot grrah, grrah, grrah, grrah bow, bow grrah, grrah spin through the sev, and i ain't tryna box tryna what? tryna what? these ain't regular shots grrah they be like, "yus, cool", bitch, i'm on hots on hots like, okay, bitches settin' the drop tryna what? .357, been poppin' a lot h-hop out gang, but he died with his chop bitch, we them 'ooters, all we do is pop like, free flock, get him shot send a kite, roll that boy in his spot boy in pc talkin' silly with no knock with the deuce i go ku, i be itchin' to flock ap, my muddy, for him do a lot do a lot brodie gon' pour up muddy, movin' wock choppin' 'еm, pop out the dark, i'ma pop bro up the glock, tryna knock off a top like, oh, hе dead, like, he in bed when i'm with sha and all i see is dread on pursuit, when i up it, they fled the d's on my bop, i'll still shoot off the peg head-tap gang, keep one in the head bend through that block and all i see is red like, i'm a demon, i said what i said like, free flock, time to put him to bed spin through the mitch, like on the reg' got a glock with a dick, put the beam on his head jeebee a demon, stay off the meds but i don't box, we put one in your head he with his bitch, when i up it, they fled bro in the whip with the knock on his leg chop go, "grrah", hit the back of the leg nazzy, rippy, james, dead like, can't forget that jb should've fled movelook got hit in his head it's a new opp in the air, roll this dead mezzy, blay, rite, dead like ain't no stoppin' this shit i know brodie gon' flock and we droppin' his bitch like, i heard they watchin' his shit knocks in the car, don't stop, keep flockin' that bitch like, get on that boy and i click i got ptsd, who that in that whip? beam on the blick and it came with a switch like, bet i'm gon' do him like rip better not run, don't run, don't trip got a beam on the blick, i'ma send him a tip fuck that, pop out the dark and i blitz like, bitch, when i boom, better dip bow, bow, bow chorus grrah, grrah spin through the sev and i ain't tryna box tryna box tryna what? these ain't regular shots they be like, "yus, cool", bitch, i'm on hots like, okay, bitches settin' the drop tryna what? 357, been poppin' a lot h-hop out gang, but he died with his chop hop out bitch, we them 'ooters, all we do is pop don't run, don't run like, free flock, get him shot send a kite, roll that boy in his spot grrah, grrah boy in pc talkin' silly with no knock with the deuce i go ku, i be itchin' to flock ap, my muddy, for him do a lot do a lot brodie gon' pour up muddy, movin' wock choppin' 'em, pop out the dark, i'ma pop bro up the glock, tryna knock off a top grrah, grrah grrah, said i'm face of the bronx grrah, grrah-grrah, boom, like. |
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