lirik lagu krispylife kidd - genre of spice talk
intro:
alright krispylife, n~gga, it’s with a k, dumbass b~tch ghetto boyz, n~gga, free rio (lorenz, don’t stop)
[verse 1: krispylife kidd]
he live with his granny, so we still gon’ shoot it up bullet hit her oxygen tank, we done blew it up i just ate a bad perc’ and i threw it up where your b~tch at? she in the room with it tooted up mike just took one of my percs, he do too much bro don’t wanna ride with me ’cause i shoot too much every time you say some lame sh~t, you lose two sl~ts me and mike just matched two fours, y’all got a deuce of what? [verse 2: rmc mike] f~ck the b~tch for twenty~six minutеs, then throw the deucеs up i’m tryna ball, you tryna ball too, you wanna hoop or what? no, i can’t tell you what i got up in my stash, but i’m super up d~mn, kidd, i’m finna go to jail, i shot an uber up auntie can’t buy no dope from me, she don’t oot enough ooh, b~tch got a pink p~ssy on her, but got a doo~doo b~tt catch his ass lackin’ right on mackin, call doodlebug how the f~ck you mad at my success and you don’t do enough?
[verse 3: krispylife kidd & rmc mike] made d~boy nervous rappin’ with the strap out let off a hundred~fifty shots, made him back down i just beat a b~tch back and made her tap out i just beat a b~tch back and blew her back out i’m shootin’ this b~tch from deep, i think— yeah, f~ck that nah, kidd, i’m finna shoot this b~tch from deep, i’m jerry stackhouse drop me off around the corner, i got they whole block mapped out i think he died from shootin’ dice, i guess he cr~pped out d~mn, who want beef with us? i’m in the club crispy as h~ll with a fully tucked copped a new watch, it’s not plain, this b~tch fully bust caught dog with his pants down, now he truly f~cked man, i don’t like switches, but got a k problem he get me pints once a month, i got a straight doctor ours called sh~t~talkin’, y’all got a straight genre money long as h~ll, we ain’t never havin’ pape’ problems i just got twelve pints from a fake doctor i’m finna give them b~tches straight to stan gave a n~gga six bars for an eight of red i won’t pay for the p~ssy, but i’ll pay for head d~mn, my oldhead just shoot this b~tch, he lebron james sl!ck talker, i’ll take your b~tch, danny fontaine put these clippers to your head, that’s a wild fade backdoor to hit my n~gga b~tch, that’s a foul play i put my nuts all in her cream, that’s a parfait meet a b~tch and play mind games like an arcade nah, meet a b~tch and hit her in the car, this a car date spin a block in an old lincoln, this a mark viii nah, mike, the chop long as f~ck like a mark viii nah, bro, this audi fast as f~ck, this an r8 left a stink bomb in his car, hoo left a stink bomb in his whip, now the car stink i think i just drunk some cut, now all my farts stink he pulled up in a v6, i think his car fake left so much money on the floor, we need a yard rake we gotta rake it up two thirty clips looked it better, so i taped ’em up we the hottest in our city, so they hate on us i just re~rocked the bag with some angel dust n~ggas playin’ like some little kids, get his lego crushed
[verse 4: krispylife kidd] yeah i just poured another twelve in a faygo crush i’ll never show no love, n~ggas hate too much b~tch seen my account like, “kidd, how you make so much?” hit his head with a hollow and make his bagel crunch wockhardt, tris, i can make your punch made 60k in one weekend, i can’t make this up hit him one time and he died, that’s a fatal punch [outro: krispylife kidd] b~tch and that wasn’t mike either yeah rmc sh~t, krispylife sh~t free rio, n~gga, free the main bird b~tch
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