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lirik lagu pusha t - oooh

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[verse 1: hodgy beats]
prometh flow for the slow sippers
and if you on your paper chasing, i’ma roll with ya
about an onion, it odors a bag of funyuns
b-tches packaging dozens, f-ck ‘em until they malfunction
i laugh my -ss off, taking shots like a gunman
i don’t hunt game, motherf-cker, i hunt men
take ‘em to the back of my pick-up truck to rot them
k!ll a f-ckin’ superhero, i watch the watchmen
i’m a super-negro, my watch the rocks in
my glock that’s c-cked, loaded, and ready to lock in
who’s sending n-ggas to the dirt? ostriches
captain holding them captive f-cking hostages
create carnage from cartridges, eating the heart of pigs
to murder, homicide’s a part to live with that
grab your teflon, ammunition, and your gat
unless you wanna get sh-tted on like p-rn scat

[hook: pusha t]
oooh, you ain’t sayin’ nada
guns drawn, n-ggas scream opera
38 snub or the chopper
middle finger goes to the coppers
you better hope the lord is your doctor
like, oooh, you ain’t sayin’ nada
guns drawn, n-ggas scream, opera
38 snub or the chopper
middle finger goes to the coppers
you better hope the lord is your doctor
like, oooh

[verse 2: pusha t and (liva don)]
hey hodgy, hey tyler, don’t mind us
(we k!ll ‘em all, 50 shots, f-ck kindness
in all black versace dressed in the finest)
we sell it all, even the drugs are designers
gangsta b-tches, red monkeys for the ecstasy
(f-ck it, take ‘em all, overdose the recipe
let them hoes show they true colors-) crew lovers
p-ssed around like a cold (it’s a zoo of us)
two brothers, add two others just the news of it
make the net crash, the ultimate “who done it?”
(and who knew sarah palin with the sniff type daughter knocked up
but she was knocking down glen rice)
been nice since the wolf gang was baby pups
(golf w-ng full grown, now they crazy f-cks)
add two dope boys known for taping up
(kick in the door, now the world ain’t safe enough)

[hook: pusha t]
oooh, you ain’t sayin’ nada
guns drawn, n-ggas scream opera
38 snub or the chopper
middle finger goes to the coppers
you better hope the lord is your doctor
like, oooh, you ain’t sayin’ nada
guns drawn, n-ggas scream, opera
38 snub or the chopper
middle finger goes to the coppers
you better hope the lord is your doctor
like, oooh

[verse 3: tyler the creator]
spit bars, this hard, teen sixteen bars
i’m f-cking the game when its v-g-n- got my d-ck scarred
um, sure it’s ‘preme b-tton up floral
stack of money, dark shades, looking like a f-cking tourist
or it’s the tourettes that my f-cking neck have
i’m like a average n-gga in the 20’s of the 18’s
and i’m not even 20, dropped a cl-ssic at my 18
a crazy motherf-cker, maybe i should be my stepdad (come here son)
the wolves finally reconcile
at interscope office with a bunch of f-cking pedophiles
while mouth watering, this sh-t is sick and f-cking vile
trying to f-ck my destiny, they couldn’t find another child


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