Lyrics

Wasup? Suicide Suicide year Uhh! Sadboys Shawty, I'ma do things that you ain't never did Finna wake up next to you in my crib, 'cause I'ma make you hurt I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma make you hurt I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) Shawty, I'ma do things that you ain't never did Finna wake up next to you in my crib, 'cause I'ma make you hurt I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma make you hurt I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) Sadboys, we on deck Am I awake? I got to check Went to sleep, then I came back I'm the same guy smokin' loud pack Iced-out, right back, PCP attack Greedy pills hoes on my ball sack They don't know how to act High tech watch, high tech locked Broken Skies, Fantastic Fox Got keys, but I'll never find the lock Emotional Boys we in the UFO Skies pink when I'm on ecstasy In Tokyo, playin' Mario Sadboys blastin' your stereos Suckin' on my nuts like pistachios Mixin' champagne with carpaccio Slangin' doe, ho, I'm in that Polo Stacks of money, more for you Milkshakes with the crushed up Oreos I'm in Italy, Rodeo Forgive me after my death, Caravaggio Louis duffel bag filled with heroin Louis goons who finna trip on LSD acid tabs, let 'em in Louis duffel bag filled with heroin Louis goons who finna trip on LSD acid tabs, let 'em in I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) Bitch, I light up the sky, call me Charmeleon My life's on the line, I ain't Charmander, but I'm nearly on Clearly on drugs that will make you hear clearly wrong Longer than my yearly bong hit Shawty, thinks she's got style, Leandoer dresses slicker I'm so iced-out that it's winter, destroy my stupid liver I be on that Bape shit, you rockin' Quicksilver Never hesitate shit to pull the trigger Luxurious, steak before my dinner Throw Bombay down the river, yeah, you get that picture Gold and silver 'round my finger Shawty on that West Side, she a gold digger Wake up, and I'm a winner Showerin' in five star, ho, take a look in the mirror I'm on my grind like all the time Bitch, I'm Murakami, shawty suckin' on my pastrami Get that salami I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) Shawty, I'ma do things that you ain't never did Finna wake up next to you in my crib, 'cause I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma make you hurt I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) Shawty, I'ma do things that you ain't never did Finna wake up next to you in my crib, 'cause I'ma make you hurt I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) I'ma, I'ma make you hurt (hurt!) Louis duffel bag filled with heroin Louis, Louis, Louis duffel bag filled with heroin Louis, Louis, Louis duffel bag filled with heroin I'ma, I'ma, I'ma make you hurt I'ma make you hurt Sadboys!
Writer(s): Al Jacobs, Jimmie Crane Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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