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lirik lagu kidddalegend - i just wanna party (remix)

[verse 1] (00:20)
king kidd, godkidd, kidd da legend/
tray-oh-six; black trilla family, that’s the message/
i just wanna party like no other/
i just wanna party with my brothas/
with my sistahs, with my cousins/
grams, gramps, aunts and uncles/
everybody got an agenda off top/
whether it’s business or it’s countertops you hop/
finna spark a home invasion like some pot/
i mean some weed, mary jane is what i mean – stop/
drop and roll, clock the roll, cop the role/
fire on me, too early, share if it gets too cold/
bang bang bang negro, onomatopoeia/
gang bang slang n-gga, yawk! knock! peace up/
west side or east side, west coast or east coast/
turnt up till we float, dead braggadocios, don’t boast/
you think they prefer to g-ngb-ng or deepthroat?/
i don’t know, all i know is how to move bars to pro/

[verse 2] (01:21)
kidd loe is from towson/
profound and astound, son/
round 1, two swings to the right/
one crisp hook and a left-right/
right-left, 3-piece chicken dinner/
let’s finish off the night right, a’ight?/
hotter than thanksgiving biscuits out the oven/
on a tuesday, two days before the food lays/
on the dining table, no relation to frito lays/
oh mane, if it’s gucci-gucci, it gets lots of plays/
i ain’t talkin’ wide receivers runnin’ deep/
like some p-n-s in some v-g-n-, very steep/
like long female skidmarks running, meryl streep/
dig the wordplay, words get played all day/
from the early morning to the dusk of day/
24-hours, the first 16 is just a throw away/
which means the next eight hours, i create showers/
of meteorites and asteroids to deflower/
this reality, because in reality the ranch ain’t jolly/
‘ish is straight sour/

[verse 3] (02:22)
n-gga i’m from bodymore/
decap-olis is the capital/
murdaland is the state/
get ya body stuffed in a crate/
full of milk cartons for whoever beef startin’/
tell anthony batts that he full of cheap talk/
and tell the mayor i’m a say whatever airs/
you think it’s all about the city? n0body cares/
why you think the real crime rate never gets aired?/
i keep my hands in the air when i see cops/
r.i.p mike brown, eric garner/
ezell ford, dante parker/
george stinney, oscar grant/
emmett till, trayvon martin/
what you know about the struggles?/
what you know about trynna stay out of trouble?/
what you know about the hustle?/
and them n-ggas you owe to lookin’ to plug you/
i’m mean to keep you quiet, on gp/
’48 hours’ make you unknowingly tell on tv/
i don’t mean a ratatouille, but this is not a movie/
this is life, like the prisons that’s waitin’ on n-ggas, right?/

- lirik lagu kidddalegend

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