album cover
7.62's
23.169
Hip-Hop/Rap
7.62's è stato pubblicato il 25 febbraio 2023 da Duetti come parte dell'album Permanent Pain
album cover
Data di uscita25 febbraio 2023
EtichettaDuetti
LinguaEnglish
Melodicità
Acousticità
Valence
Ballabilità
Energia
BPM82

Crediti

PERFORMING ARTISTS
NLU Skeet
NLU Skeet
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Rozell Grainger
Rozell Grainger
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
JTC Beats
JTC Beats
Mastering Engineer

Testi

(G you made this shit?)
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6 sticks
7.62's these ain't regular
These bitches hit your Tesla
And make your shit flip, bitch
A, B, C, D E, F, and N
Everywhere I go
This bitch right next to me
My bestest friend
I'm the artist at the door
You better not think I'm checking in
Bro I won't enter into your club
If I can't bring my weapon in
Aye, fuck all that talking
Bitch you got some money?
A 50 ball on your head
Shit don't cost for nothing
Everywhere I go my shooters with me
They got all the buttons
**** dying cause his pride
Really all for nothing
We got all that iron, get to firing
This bitch hold 100
See them bullets flying
He started crying
He couldn't hold his stomach
Seeing all them holes inside his body
Froze cold, he vomit
Caught with all them poles
Ain't on parole
That **** told or something
Aye, we with all that bully, all that savage shit No messy shit
She ain't give it up on the first night
Won't even text the bitch
I just let her through
When she want two
No, I don't stress the bitch
I be grabbing her neck and pulling her hair When we having sex and shit
Come here
Like where you going?
Soon you try to run
Then imma get to throwing
Glock 23
We dunking shit
But this ain't Michael Jordan
Sick he love to shoot without permission
He just get to blowing
Pull up from the 3, shoot with precision
Got a different form
Stand over him
Fill him up with all these tacos
We be the one in these streets
They be ducking them potholes
We be tryna rob, let's get outside
Tell him drop low
Go ask them **** bout us
We paint shit up like Picasso
Shit (fuck)
I'm tired of yelling, bitch my head hurt
Them **** still tryna get back
Cause they was dead first
Same **** talk bout Casey death
He got dead worse
Same **** laugh cause Raymond left
Made his head burst
A fifth of lean, you come with some drink
Might get a free verse
We put shit in boxes scrapping shit
We put shit on T-shirts
Miss them bodies close? No you didn't
**** reverse
Bail out the car and hawk his ass down
Until your feet hurt
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6 sticks
7.62's these ain't regular
These bitches hit your Tesla
And make your shit flip, bitch
A, B, C, D E, F, and N
Everywhere I go
This bitch right next to me
My bestest friend
I'm the artist at the door
You better not think I'm checking in
Bro I won't enter into your club
If I can't bring my weapon in
Written by: Rozell Grainger
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