lirik lagu talibando - sweet 16
[intro]
yeah (top$ide)
you with us or you with them, it ain’t no in~betweens (uh~uh)
yeah
[verse 1]
you with us or you with them, it ain’t no in~betweens (b~tch)
feelin’ like tom brady, never switch the teams (uh~uh)
i ain’t talkin’ drinks, get you shot with this lemon squeeze
left that old sh~t behind me, onto bigger and better things
left the old ones behind me, went and got some better fiends (b~tch)
got the feds on my ass ’cause i’m into sellin’— (shh)
on the phone, i talk in code so they can’t understand a thing
i got some blue jeans in your size if you can fit a twenty~three
i got some hoopin’ heads for five~five like they throw up the b
got exotics for like forty~eight, come get a pound of trees
blow matchin’ lines, chillin’, it’s just me and veeze
i just left up out revive, spent like three thousand on jeans
we just threw a lean party, poured a sweet sixteen
hit your block, clean your street up with an m16 (brrt, bah, bah)
hit the crib, switch the whips, come back right through the scene (skrrt)
ridin’ ’round, passin’ out testers, n~gga, try out these (here)
we got boy, we got girl, we got pints of the lean (rrr)
i never got drafted ’cause i traveled with the orange pills
out in la pickin’ out some crops, it look like cornfields (let’s go)
[chorus]
we just threw a lean party, poured a sweet sixteen (ah)
we just threw a lean party, poured a— (ah)
we just threw a lean party, poured a sweet sixteen
hit your block, clean your street up with an m16
we just threw a lean party, poured a sweet sixteen
hit your block, clean your street up with an m16
[verse 2]
boy, you ain’t got more money than my lil’ n~ggas (my lil’ n~ggas)
no deal, on chill, we iced up off of— dealin’ (bling)
made like two hundred thousand on the hill chillin’
my baby dolla’s crib was worth about a mil’ ticket (brrt, beep)
it won’t never be the same, but we gon’ still get it (we gon’ still get it)
take them losses, learn from ’em, gotta deal with it (gotta deal with it)
that’s why we stack that money up, up to the ceiling, out the roof
n~ggas ain’t f~ckin’ with me, if you wanna know the truth
eatin’ lamb chops and drinkin’ 1942 at truth (ah)
nothin’ but drug dealers, k!llers, bad b~tches in my booth (yeah)
my n~ggas, my brothers only, no friends up in the group (gang)
i’ma get rich one day and go buy everybody coupes (skrrt, skrrt)
like the no limit soldiers (uh), baby, we ’bout it, ’bout it
any loud~talkin’ altercations, gon’ resort to violence (brrt, bah)
pull them pistols out if we get ‘noid, it ain’t no point in fightin’
hang the phone up on broke n~ggas that be quotin’ prices (bye)
[outro]
(top$ide)
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