lirik lagu booba - bellucci (english)
[refrain: b00ba]
always fresh, i remain on the surface
as the ice cubes in my chivas
it is not henna on my face
relinks ash0r-
i have the ar, i ski mask
o-r chains on primates
i’m stan smith at adidas
j’monte 300 # leonidas
your life hangs by a phone call
ta hlel hangs by a d-ck stroke
sergeant kopp’zer in the c-ckpit
too bling’zer to the portico
[verse 1: b00ba]
i’m on the net’zer in the street
married to hate as bellucci
n-gga, you are fake as your gucci
i know what to put, i am too well off
i beg you, my walk on zanotti
this is the weight of arms, not words, which weighs me
it’s not rocket handjob but deafening you
what a cr-ppy brand door matuidi
with us, saying nothing, everything has been said
always live the mothership
i had alzheimer’s when they questioned me
when j’pense to you, i think missionary, not legionnaire
i’m posting in the room your mother
in the commissioner’s office
i’m cocaine, you’re sleeping pill
my god, how many fake n-ggas proliferate
i have the best flow of the universe
my glock my first wife, so i left to lucie
j’gagne the lottery, 20 smoke join
j’voyage badly as a lo-ki-ing in the will
when they ask me, the harki talks to three monkeys
j’te draws a large ball as a gnocchi in the larynx
[verse 2: future]
it’s murder for hire
i put c0ke in the tires
i got dope on the flight
there’s birds on the phantom
burning money like cam’ron
coming straight out the gutter
drinking that dirty sprite syrup
i f-ck all your kids and your mother
me and young b00ba, we bosses
down in miami we flossin’
i just be tripping with flavor
they call like, “where is the sauce?”
i got a kilo and bought me a kilo
tony montana and i got the yayo
these b-tches be loving a n-gga for hitting a hater
sh-t, these b-tch -ss n-ggas won’t let me have my moment
knock and dodges to my enemy
bagging up, selling these coca leaves
then i go take me a shopping spree
i want a brand new ar with a 100-round drum on it
that money really make her c-m, b-tch
then go put your tongue on it
that b-tch really yours, n-gga?
you better put alarm on it
i ain’t go to harvard, n-gga
that’s word to my momma, n-gga
i put that presidential rollie on that b-tch
and then she mine, my n-gga
i grind and i shine, my n-gga
i ain’t wasting no time, my n-gga
i’m smashing your freak on the p-ssenger seat
shoot at you n-ggas, saying, “f-ck all the beef!”
i got ammo for days
run around in the caymans
mac-11 in the bentley
and i ride for my real n-ggas
only god can judge me
when you live like a field n-gga
when you don’t feel n-ggas
sometimes you gotta k!ll n-ggas
[outro: future]
word up to my motherf-cking riders, ya heard me?
everybody getting sprayed up right now
i can’t keep out these hoes xxx
they might turn on me, mo’f-cker
i’m ‘bout to got a blue story n-gga
sh-t ‘bout to get real uncomfortable for you n-ggas, ya heard?
b00ba ! belucci! freebandz! freebandz! freebandz!
wooh
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