lirik lagu arierr - max payne
[verse]
i done took a risk, went broke, and got it right back—100s, 50s, or dubs if i up a stack. this ain’t warzone; we catch your mans—ain’t no buyin’ ’em back. reaching for a chain? the quickest way to get your life sn~tched
all i did was show a light ten, and now your girl’s attached. oh, you ain’t talking paper? so, why the heck should i interact? thinking this is a game until we take your ass up out the match. made 5 bands off 10 giffys; where my scamming badge?
i’m a team player—pass your girl to bro; that’s a light assist. lil’ dawg hatin’, but i don’t even know his ass exists. i know it’s paper around once my palms get that one itch. turn your block to the nhl; how we slide with sticks
you can’t mess with no one on my team; you need to call it quits. expensive brand with the middle finger if i post a pic. i’m focused on paper; could give a (expletive) about chasing a b~tch. he was tryna prove he hard and got left up in the past tense
the early bird gets the worm, so sh~t i’m up getting to it. if it ain’t about no paper, then this convo is now concluded. b~tch said i ain’t up—what the (expletive), girl, you sound stupid! in the booth spitting fire like i went and drunk lighter fluid
two sticks on me, running like i’m max payne. she talkin’ ’bout some love, but the whole time i don’t even know her name. playin’ with my chicken? a get you fried like you raisin’ cane’s. 43~88~57, shout out paulo w~ng
a thousand for this coat—remember days walkin’ in the rain. i’ll up the stick and make an opp vanish like i’m david blaine. you trippin’ off these hoes, lil’ dawg; we are not the same. they can’t mess with us; got ’em trying to cheat the game
you ain’t getting to it; you just talking, so get up out the way. you ain’t talking paper; i don’t care about a thing you gotta say. put your paper on me; i bet i green for your parlay. b~tch, stop playing; i’m dan smith with the card play
i’m up all night getting to it; i don’t need no sleep. lamb chops or the steak bites; i don’t know what to eat. running around like ray allen; i’m quick to up the heat. once we get the drop, light it up like a christmas tree
your girl’s in my room blowing me stuff; she’s my referee. nah, for real, she’s playing with the b~lls like she’s angel reese. why the f~ck you talking? ain’t n0body tell your ass to speak. mom said i’m trippin’, spent $300 on a black tee
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