Artis / Penyanyi: a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z #

lirik lagu birdman – dark shades

dark shades
(feat. lil wayne & mack maine)

ymcmb
i’m so twisted
mack!

[chorus: lil wayne]
dark *ss shades, i can’t see them haters
now eat these f*ckin’ bullets, don’t forget to tip the waiter
i don’t drink champagne, it make my stomach hurt
b*tch i’m on that patron, f*ck me wrong and get murked
got a silencer on the gun, that b*tch go “pu”
that b*tch go “pu”, that b*tch go “pu”
got a silencer on the gun, that b*tch go “pu”
got a mean *ss swagga, my b*tches do too

[verse 1: mack maine]
uh, mack in this b*tch, tell them hoes i’m ‘bout it
these n*gg*s sweet, bunch of f*ckin’ brownies
f*ck you talking ‘bout, b*tch i’m a g like a thousand
i’m on my one-two, and b*tch i’m still counting
you n*gg*s got problems, well i got bigger problems
my guns so black, make me bring the n*gg* out them
you don’t want that, homie
plus i got that pick-up on me
finger f*ck nina, she h*rny
you won’t see tomorrow morning

n*gg*, we so f*cking cold
young money, money old
life is full of choices and your b*tch chose
n*gg*, i’m so hollygrove, f*ck-f*ck them other n*gg*s
and if the guns drawn, i paint a f*cking picture
n*gg*, you know what i’m on, a bag of that strong
n*gg*, you know where i’m going, b*tch i’m going, going, gone!
n*gg*, holla at your boy, i-i don’t give a f*ck
got a silencer on the gun, make me shut you n*gg*s up
mack!

[chorus: lil wayne]
dark *ss shades, i can’t see them haters
now eat these f*ckin’ bullets, don’t forget to tip the waiter
i don’t drink champagne, it make my stomach hurt
man i’m on that patron, f*ck with me wrong and get murked
got a silencer on the gun, that b*tch go “pu”
that b*tch go “pu”, that b*tch go “pu”
got a silencer on the gun, that b*tch go “pu”
got a mean *ss swagga, my b*tches do too

[verse 2: birdman]
just a third world gangsta, been filthy, top ranker
hustler, shot caller, kill ‘em all, keep banking
big mansions on the island
popping shots out the bottle
spending cause we’re winning
five star, money, power!
hunting while we stunning b*tch, trigger man, hood rich
built on some silenced sh*t, bad b*tch, born rich
chandelier sh*t, marble full of bricks
turn water into wine, hit you sittin’, paint that b*tch
out-out-out the bentley with ‘em doves, stashes for the plug
green and red bottom, throwing hundreds in the club
bouncing on the shine, we the n*gg*s running sh*t
blood the blood line, pearl-white black tents
head light, red light, spent them at the green light
flash light, fast life, hit ‘em for a cheap price
uptown swagger life, living like we live it twice
point blank aim n*gg*, give a f*ck about the price

[chorus: lil wayne]
dark *ss shades, i can’t see them haters
now eat these f*ckin’ bullets, don’t forget to tip the waiter
i don’t drink champagne, it make my stomach hurt
man i’m on that patron, f*ck with me wrong and get murked
got a silencer on the gun, that b*tch go “pu”
that b*tch go “pu”, that b*tch go “pu”
got a silencer on the gun, that b*tch go “pu”
got a mean *ss swagga, my b*tches do too

[verse 3: lil wayne]
b*tch i’m from new orleans
rest in peace magnolia shorty
and i come from hollygrove
that b*tch is wild as a safari
i go stupid, i go r*t*rded
the gr*ss is greener in my garden
swagger meaner than the warden
pow pow pow i ain’t with arguing, hah
leave a n*gg* leaking
if you scared go see the deacon
got a silencer on the gun but them bullets still speakin’
got a buncha b*tches tweaking
to tell me all of their secrets
and if i get in that p*ssy
i’m on her walls like graffiti
you’s dead pita bread, you’re a fed *ss n*gg*
i’m on my vampire, bl**dy red flag n*gg*
f*cking with lil tunechi get your head smashed n*gg*
hit you dead on the money call that dead cash n*gg*
and it’s… party time excellent wayne’s world
party time excellent wayne’s world
tonight i’m probably f*cking another n*gg*’s girl
party time excellent wayne’s world

[chorus: lil wayne]
dark *ss shades, i can’t see them haters
now eat these f*ckin’ bullets, don’t forget to tip the waiter
i don’t drink champagne, it make my stomach hurt
man i’m on that patron, f*ck with me wrong and get murked
got a silencer on the gun, that b*tch go “pu”
that b*tch go “pu”, that b*tch go “pu”
got a silencer on the gun, that b*tch go “pu”
got a mean *ss swagga, my b*tches do too
(yeah)

- lirik lagu birdman