lirik lagu smoovth & giallo point - culiacan
[intro]
yeah (uh~huh)
you hear the drum roll
that’s just the gun shots (bu~du, bu~du, bu~du, bu~du, bu~du, bu~du)
bu~du, bu~du (uh~huh)
knahimean? ahaha (shout out giallo)
(giallo point)
[verse 1]
caught ’em in the back of the bus like rosa
a humble cat kept it low but moved more work than sammy sosa
they put that n~gga on a poster, missin’ on the side of a mail card and
f~ck a b~tch, her p~ss’ fartin’
we blow spliffs and get r~t~rded
left~hand shot, i’m hot, n~gga, james harden
that time i got my sentence pardoned
reduced from a twenty~five to two years
my whole squad, they got tattooed tears
empty bottles of beer, we left son at the pier
we got paid to make ’em disappear
tied his hands to the rear, then bust a couple shots in the air (ah)
akhi, don’t put no fear in my heart
sh~t get real when it start, that beef get cooked up
my whole life, i had to hook up on things you wouldn’t believe
and couldn’t achieve if i didn’t try
i don’t got the energy, so i let ’em slide, yeah
[chorus]
avoid the strays, a street n~gga stuck in my ways
john blaze, crime pays
we’ll shoot it out, that’s food for thought
when sh~t get hectic, the guns come out
catch in your leg, runnin’ around
we hang ’em like they did in the south
stash the money in the couch, keep it quiet like a church mouse
ouch, my n~ggas run in your house
and leave you dead with your d~ck in your mouth
[verse 2]
a cup of coffee when i wake up, the mission is to get my cake up
‘member this? alright, it’s made up
we hit the block in blue chucks, i got my ducks in a row
avoid beef, but when it’s war, it ain’t nothin’ to go
shout out to them n~ggas out in buffalo
my vl n~ggas in memphis, my crip n~ggas in hempstead
you know, a lot of cats’ll gang~bang on records
i know real n~ggas that bang reckless, some folk n~ggas in texas
but i ain’t no snitch though, i’m back on my bullsh~t
and never leave the crib without the gat and a full clip
remember the hood was hot, and all we used to do was blow pop
and walk up the block and bag b~tches
from rags to riches, my trigger finger itches
split a n~gga wig and leave ’em stitches, you do the dishes
that’s food for thought, do dirt and don’t get caught
avoid the pork (avoid it, n~gga)
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