Lyrics

(Come on, Joints, BWC in the cut, you get me?) (Fuckin', you know time 'cah I got bagged, you get it?) D-Zeus (Free the guys, everyone doing bang up) Ocho, Ocho (We're really on tour behind them doors) Odessa Road to Chatsworth Road If you come around here, then you better be sure Make man bleed like a bitch in labor But there won't be no baby born My rambo blade is a burglar It breaks into your skin and then takes what's yours Don't give me no fuckin' verbal Just give me your spinal cord If me and JP's on a mission Fishin', turn the paigon to a victim Back my shank Do a zig-zag in his head till he looks like Lisa Simpson This life that I live is addictive Even though it sent me to prison I'll put my blade in your eye and twist Like this car key when it's in the ignition I gotta put my bread into toasters So I can pop up and get a paigon toasted If my knife was a USB Then your lap or top is the port that it goes in Me and JT went jail for a joke ting They had the mandem screamin' free us '017 was four man in a Toyota Praying that the police don't pree us If you get stabbed up and die Tell your dead friend that I said "Hi" I'm sitting in jail like "Where's my freedom?" It got taken like your bregin's life All my paigons do is lie I'm startin' to think if another one dies He'll jump on Insta' live from hell And tell everyone that he is alive I got a rambo next to my boxers I wanna see K's, no Calvin Klein We didn't know which opp block to go So we had a debate like Jeremy Vine If my zombie goes in your belly It gets tangled in your intestines Free JT, that's my right hand He's already put blood on his tactical knife Let's play a game called, "Don't get stabbed up" Whoever gets stabbed up first Is the one that drops and don't get back up Stab man in his head and shoulders My huntin' knife ain't curing his dandruff If blood was a currency Then I'm tryna pull up and leave him bankrupt Don't get stabbed up 'Cause it ain't cool if my Rambo thinks you're edible You know I ain't playing no pranks If it's in April and a wagon falls They disowned my man when he got stabbed in the balls And lost his testicle My man snitched when he got cabbaged He was a talkin' vegetable We got war with most of the borough And a war with a few old friends If we back our shanks Tryna see true colours That true colour we'll see is red Bro didn't do that drill in a beamer But he coulda X'd five of them He put it to my man's head But the handgun jammed when he tried to fire the skeng When he tried to fire the If you get stabbed up and die Tell your dead friend that I said "Hi" I'm sitting in jail like "Where's my freedom?" It got taken like your bregin's life All my paigons do is lie I'm startin' to think if another one dies He'll jump on Insta' live from Hell and tell everyone that he is alive I got a rambo next to my boxers I wanna see K's, no Calvin Klein We didn't know which opp block to go So we had a debate like Jeremy Vine If my zombie goes in your belly It gets tangled in your intestines Free JT, that's my right hand He's already put blood on his tactical knife
Writer(s): Ludwig Josue Alemeza, Jesus Alvarez, Dylan Creffield-foster Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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