lirik lagu 15-12 budd - mad at us
[intro: wooski]
let’s get it, gang sh~t
shout out to the gang, man
r.i.p. and free my n~ggas, man (fbg, man, clout boyz sh~t)
all that there, b~tch, gang
[chorus: wooski]
b~tch, we clouted up
b~tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
b~tch, we clouted up
b~tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
[verse 1: wooski]
y’all ran out of luck (f~ck the opps)
shooters wilding in them cuts, me and my gang be going nuts (tooka gang, turn up)
shout out cray cray, cashout, and my broski duck (foe ‘nem)
and b~tch, you must be from halsted if you think you gon’ get cuffed (silly b~tch, gang)
all that sh~t you talk to me, boy, it’s a bluff (you ain’t getting no bread)
can’t never lack in chiraq, my boys too rough (there go them k!llers)
pull up on your b~tch, i’m like, “what up?” (skrt skrt, skrt skrt, skrt skrt, get down)
they scared to post on their block, we let guns fuss (glah, glah, grah)
[verse 2: 15~12 budd]
they call me jaro city budd, n~gga
ruger with that thirty~three, we send them slugs, n~gga
tutu gang, n~gga, we don’t show no love (ttg)
we hit your block all~black with the gloves (with them gloves)
wet his p~ssy~ass up like a tub (he wet)
all you seen was a puddle of blood (d~mn, he leaking)
now, me and wooski and [?] throwing dubs (f~ck up a check)
we f~ck the check up, then we might rob the plug (give it here)
[chorus: wooski]
b~tch, we clouted up
b~tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
b~tch, we clouted up
b~tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
[verse 3: electrik]
one big strap and a two~seater
i don’t do lean, but my n~ggas drink by the liter
that’s why these boys mad, ’cause they gotta pay for a feature
i don’t do tricking, only thing i pay for is sneakers (uh)
i love my b~tch, i’ll never say, “i don’t love these hoes” (yeah)
i be shining for diamonds, keep a yellow b~tch just to match my gold (just to match my gold)
on the grind, you can tell how the paper stack and fold (uh)
that’s real n~gga sh~t ’til the casket closed
[verse 4: va the mobster]
yeah, we got ’em mad as f~ck (uh~yea)
approach me wrong, i’m letting the pistols bust (bah)
and trust
n~gga, you f~cking with gs, not f~cking with thugs (uh~yea)
really ’bout that action (uh~huh)
and all of my n~ggas, we really be packing (we packing)
and subtracting
all these fake~ass, flaw~ass n~ggas that really be acting (uh~yea)
all that gutter gutter sh~t that you talking ’bout
n~gga, it ain’t gon’ make you last that long (unh~uh)
’cause shawty be good with the chrome
bringing that pressure right to your home (uh~yea)
really ’bout that bread, though
but strapped with them choppers just like commandos (commandos)
this game get greasy (huh)
and when it does, i’m letting the things go
[chorus: wooski]
b~tch, we clouted up
b~tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
b~tch, we clouted up
b~tch, we clouted up
i guess that’s why they mad at us
i guess they mad at us
smoking keta, counting up
smoking keta, counting up
blood money in this double cup
in a double cup
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