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lirik lagu damedot - gucci slides

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[verse]
how many times i gotta tell n~ggas i’m the goat? (yeah)
i ain’t ’bout to put n~ggas on the road, i’ma go
b~tch ain’t got a deep throat, then she gotta go (mwah)
i ain’t finna battle rap with n~ggas, i ain’t calicoe (nah)
nah, i ain’t ’bout to go back and forth with no n~gga
thought i was ridin’ by myself, but his ho with me (ha)
thought i picked her up by myself, but the law was with me
look (let’s go)
she don’t know where we goin’, she just know it’s a fourteen~hour drive
i~80 west, do the limit, baby, look alive
next week around this time, we on rodeo drive
house big as h~ll, hardwood floors you could skate around (ayy, ayy, ayy)
n~ggas in my business tryna find out what i’m makin’ now
took a picture with a n~gga b~tch, he made her take it down
n~ggas switchin’ teams, oh, you bronnie on the lakers now?
aim for the head, he hit dreads, he got a taper now
four pockets filled up
two deep ridin’ in a rental when we pilled up
where i go, they pay thirty dollars just for pill thugs (yeah)
come around talkin’ all that rah~rah, we gon’ k!ll blood
get to gettin’ up, playin’ crazy, we gon’ peel cuz
i don’t give a f~ck what set you claim when that stick bust
i ain’t gon’ lie, i can’t sleep when n~ggas say it’s up
drank supposed to put a n~gga down, but it got me up
i ain’t ’bout to walk sh~t, b~tch, i’m tryna run it up
blew a light sixty on my neck, i need a hundred~plus
plus the three~fives a n~gga smoke cost a hundred bucks
i can call my shooter kyrie, he come through in the clutch (dlrrt)
you ain’t seen your b~tch in months
all my haters ran to each other, now they cliquin’ up (ha)
ran into an instagram n~gga on the streets, now he b~tchin’ up
(keep that same energy)
look
how is you cut if you ain’t really down to ride? (how?)
walkin’ ’round the loft with your b~tch in some gucci slides
all i hang around is real shooters, i’m a hooper now (real sh~t)
reds on, n~gga, but sometimes, i be on cooper, huh? (yeah)
i don’t love your ho, i just hit that b~tch from time to time
she be tellin’ me that she love me, but i know she lyin’
she be seein’ me with them rackies, she can’t get a dime
lil’ ar pistol with the nuts shoot a hundred times
seen my ex~b~tch, walked right past her, made her think i’m blind
i got some pape’ to get, we can kick this sh~t another time
got it all day, n~gga, i don’t wanna talk (i don’t wanna talk)
i got real snipers on the roof, have ’em pick you off
don’t get caught playin’ with that salt (with that salt)
i’ma send them real hitters in, they gon’ leave you chalked (they gon’ chalk you)
i don’t say a motherf~ckin’ thing, let that money talk (i ain’t sayin’ sh~t)
b~tch think she ’bout to get a ring, i done cut her off (b~tch, beat it)
four, five gold chains on, call me mr. t
buffs so motherf~ckin’ white, they got dipped in bleach
i ain’t ’bout to argue ’bout no ho, i got different freaks (h~ll naw)
i ain’t ’bout to battle rap with n~ggas, i ain’t kitchen qleen (naw)
i just seen a b~tch one time, now she missing me
she could put her lips on this d~ck, ain’t no kissin’ me
all this ice dancin’, man, these hoes should be tippin’ me
[outro]
ha, on the gang, n~gga


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