lirik lagu lil pump - coupe
[intro: lil pump & fendifurcoat]
grraah!
i done just hopped out my coupe
grraah, grraah, grraah
i done just hopped out my coupe
grraah, grraah, grraah, skrrt (skrrt)
i done just hopped out my coupe (skrrt)
i done just hopped out my coupe
i done just hopped out my coupe
i done just hopped out my coupe
call them
ayy, ayy, ayy (brr)
brr, gang
esskeet-t!
filthy rich beats
[chorus: lil pump]
ayy, i done just hopped out my coupe
ayy, i done just hopped out my coupe
ayy, i done just hopped out my coupe
ayy, i done just hopped out my coupe
ayy, i done just hopped out my coupe
ayy, i done just end up on news
ayy, i done just end up on news
ayy, i done just end up on news
ayy, i done just hopped out my coupe
ayy, i done just hit me a l!ck
ayy, i done just flip me a brick
ayy, i done just got me a glock
ayy, i just done bought me some hit
[verse 1: lil pump & fendifurcoat]
got a .40 where the holler tips (pew)
got a .30 where my letter is (brr)
i don’t give a f-ck, i’m with this sh-t (boom)
i pull up on your block and hit with stick (boom, boom, boom)
lil pump, yeah he sellin’ rock (filthy rich beats)
posted on the block, with my f-ckin’ ma
hit you with the glock, yeah i’m bustin’ shots
yeah i’m servin’ white, yeah i’m servin’ frost (grraah)
posted on the block; run up on me wrong, and you gettin’ dropped
got a .40 with me (wow) and i got the glock
run up on me wrong, boy you gettin’ paul (braow)
esskeet-t!
[verse 2: fendifurcoat]
b-tch, i been flexin’ since the seventh f-ckin’ grade
let a n-gga run up on me, get his momma at a grape
flexing so hard got me, got supreme up on my chest
b-tch, flexing so hard, making all these thots wet
n-ggas ask me why i rap, b-tch cause i can
talkin’ all this sh-t for what, n-gga? you was just a fan
took your thot, finesse for top, p-ssy weak
got that b-tch on my d-ck for a godd-mn week, yeah, yeah, yeah (brrah, brrah, brrah!)
bust on in her mouth, kicked that f-ckin’ thot out (bye!)
copped the pints, get them for the high, yeah
all this dope got in my eyes
like a chinaman’s wife when he says he’s outta rice
in the kitchen whippin’ up a pint…
hit my trap, ain’t endorse
drugged a b-tch, for her corpse
sippin’ lean, smokin’ thrice…
[outro: fendifurcoat]
yeah, esskeet-t man
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