Paroles

Blow your brains out wit' a fuckin' forty-five, bitch Forty-five, bitch, fuckin' (doomshot, mothafucka) Blow your brains out wit' a fuckin' forty-five, bitch Forty-five, bitch, fuckin' forty-five, bitch What the hell you smokin' on you actin' like a bitch? Freddie Dredd is runnin' up on you with double clips I don't even need to look, I close my damn eyes What the fuck I'm shootin' at? Oh, it's the blue sky I'ma aim it anyways, fuck if ya die No bitch, why are you assumin' I am high? I am not high, bitch, I'm a bad guy Let me go to work, bitch, tie my damn tie I'ma step all over the dead Smoke the pack just not to give a fuck what you said Flying coast to coast, I give a fuck 'bout the bread Don't step too close to the fuckin' Fred I'm too buck, I'm too strapped up Bitches wanna fuck but can I spare another nut? All these hoes, these bitches wanna know "Hey man, Freddie, where did you get ya flow?" I'm too buck, I'm too strapped up I'm-I'm too buck, I'm too strapped up I'm too buck, I'm too strapped up I'm-I'm too buck, I'm too strapped up Blow your brains out wit' a fuckin' forty-five, bitch Forty-five, bitch, fuckin' (doomshot, mothafucka) Blow your brains out wit' a fuckin' forty-five, bitch Forty-five, bitch, fuckin' forty-five, bitch Blow your brains out wit' a fuckin' forty-five, bitch Forty-five, bitch, fuckin' (doomshot, mothafucka) Blow your brains out wit' a fuckin' forty-five, bitch Forty-five, bitch, fuckin' forty-five, bitch
Writer(s): Ryan Mitchel Chassels Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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