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lirik lagu saint balenci - warning

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lucid this beat crazy

[hook]
come round here we don’t no warnings (yeah)
get, hit up in the morning
oppas are lame they’re moving all boring
sending these shots lay him down now he’s snoring

might put 10 in his back like messi
don’t stress me my b~tch undress me
down on your knees like you tryna bless me
watch your mouth when you wanna address me
[verse 1: saint balenci]
i’ll show you to my b~tch, small and thick
and i call her nina
she’s dirty and likes to spit out bullets
that’s my nine millimeter

iced out the rolexes & audemars
we’re whipping this sh~t in the new foreign cars
got new cuban links and all cuban cigars
we aim for moons and we’re shooting the stars

randy orton i got voices in my head
i know hittas real k!llas i’m a legend in the flesh (yeah)
she wondering like why she always in my bed
shawty asking me for breakfast but i gave her d~ck instead (yeah)

ridin round the city
my brother just rode in a bentley
g wagons i look at ceilings
non existent none prevent me

that girl is so fine that i’m scr~w~ng
i f~ck her guts now she’s just spewing
the vivid pictures that i’m painting
she’s always asking what i’m doing
[hook]
come round here we don’t no warnings
get, hit up in the morning
oppas are lame they’re moving all boring
sending these shots lay him down now he’s snoring

might put 10 in his back like messi
don’t stress me my b~tch undress me
down on your knees like you tryna bless me
watch your mouth when you wanna address me

[verse 2: saint balenci]
we come unexpected, this gun’s unprotected
we’re leaving the scene with this blood on our denim
the porsche carrera this 9 mil beretta
his soul disconnected we shot him with venom

try talking on me then just talk on the net
were leaving that block now his mum’s all upset
this pack is from h~ll and were smoking he’s dead
when i smoke on this cali i never feel stressed

i’ve been grinding too long
i could never move wrong
racks come in from these songs
hundred bills in her thong
hundred bills in her thong
i’ve been grinding too long
i could never move wrong
racks come in from these songs

that choppa that choppa
i feel like i’m rocky
i’m spazzing in every song
someone come stop me

mercedes mercedes
a truck like g wagon
we shootout like compton
my crew get to cappin

grab the nank and then clean it
bleach it, ballie on now i’m creeping
stab him up and the coroner’s cleaning
beaming your future’s just dead no meaning

known for four doors nines in the ride
we do the seeking we don’t hide
got me a freak b~tch i keep on the side
and when i look down she swallows her pride

now she’s texting and getting attached
sorry baby think we’re mismatched
no need to overreact
blocked her number her heart collapsed

[hook: outro]
come round here we don’t no warnings
get, hit up in the morning
oppas are lame they’re moving all boring
sending these shots lay him down now he’s snoring

might put 10 in his back like messi
don’t stress me my b~tch undress me
down your on knees like you tryna bless me
watch your mouth when you wanna address me


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