lirik lagu drewski – banned from radio
they can’t f-ck with us n-gga
drewski!
ridin on these n-ggas, they already know what it is and what we about
what we about n-gga?!
cipha sounds what’s up n-gga, yeah
[verse 1: maino]
regardless the rain or snow, sleet or hail
i kick street tales
meet the devil when i see h-ll
and by a state[?]
pullin your fate in the palm of my hands
blow you away if you ain’t part of the fam
the realest n-gga in the game
tattoos cover my pain
eyes closed still holdin my aim
sweatsuit, gold rolly and chain
dope dealer sh-t
black fist, on him[?] hussein
that’s k!ller sh-t
street n-gga, speak for the crooks
give me feminine looks
c-cksucka i’m the king of the brook[?]
dress like i’m in a video–pop!–
f-ck the whole radio–pop!–
f-ck these other n-ggas that they ride for the city though
[verse 2: bodega bamz]
henny, white, no ice
eat only five-star caviar
no jobs given
in the ride an apple macintosh
tay[?] connection
second-guessing get your melon caved in
then we celebratin
hit your shorty while he level playin[?]
do it for the streets n-gga
do it for the tweets
i’m a corner-store n-gga
i just rap off[?] to beef
raise the hurt, leave em double dead
i’m a bubble head
i never listen to nothin my mother said
poppy like camacho
boxin, duckin vanachos[?]
watch[?] me call me guapo
pockets fatter than sauco[?]
the weed: color purple
beat the p-ssy like harpo
deadly with the manos
i’ll give you all a pistaco[?]
[verse 3: chinx]
fo-wheel drive with the piece on me
c0ke boys got in lots with the streets homie
they frontin live with a weak omen
whole chicken broke down, move that less than a week homie
courtside seats bought my own whistle
three-quarter mink, bad to the bone gristle
when your team up, n-ggas wanna ball with you
no hammer but i bet you got them hoes with you
bald-head no lockout, go hard no cop out
just watch your back then jump out
boys gon hop out
high-school dropout, figured how to get it on the stove
pull up to my old school with the drop out
[verse 4: troy ave]
dope boy swag to the max
troy ave mof-cka and i’m dealin with facts
not made[?] for tv, but i’m on tv
j-ro[?] the deep[?], mof-cka you see me
self-made, self-paid, that’s boss
twitter dm’s from the boy rick ross
no contract but i deal
cocaine, still sh-t real, i am ill
count on my bendo’s[?]
got it off lend though
new york city
to[?] the big homies my hand do[?]
adidas deal, i have never been checked
show me my respect or get shown wally[?] wet[?] motherf-ckers
[verse 5 mack wilds]
yeah, it’s mack
there ain’t a n-gga that you know more thorough than this
it’s a shame, cuz a singer k!llin’ her more than ya b-tch
bust off and let the hot barrel sit on her lips, heh
and that’s just me up on some ignorant sh-t
i got a couple motherf-ckers gettin rich as a b-tch
as i put my city back with the music and sh-t
guess i’m the
most imitated
grammy-nominated
hotel accommodated
cheerleader prom dated
i put my city on my back, i’m never overrated
the young samo, loading up all his ammo
vandalize every time cipha put me on f-ckin wax
catchin bodies, tv now on the f-ckin track
[verse 6: city boy dee]
ayo, a few ways out of the hood
i think about it while i’m ravelin ‘woods
the haze round, but i’d rather the kush
i get it soft, i was grabbin the cook
fresh off the block to this rap
that’s a real good look
and i just had a brand new kid
i need money for some diapers and a brand new crib
being broke, this sh-t hurt like a brand new bid
that’s why i cut the dope twice and i’m still in the biz, n-gga, uh
eything; real sh-t
f-ckin with the boy for
real flint[?], keep my circle tight
cuz they’ll swell[?] quick
n-ggas stylin
guns on us be wilin
resorts in the island
the belts is italian
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- lirik lagu aliona moon – o mie
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