Freddie Gibbs - Terrorist lyrics
Freddie Gibbs [Fredrick Jamel Tipton] Gary, Indiana, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Freddie Gibbs - Terrorist lyrics]
Uhh, tales of the terrorist
Young, black, felonious, red-blooded American
Gave this bitch a taste of that lil' boy
She cherished it fucked her veins up
Now she shoot her foot with the heroin
Twinkle toes
Know single hoes that like to treat they nose
Sending muff pics
Photos that got they treat exposed
I swear you oughta keep your
Daughter from this dirtbag
Dog nigga, scum of the Earth
For what it's worth
I been handling probation well
Smoking blunts
36 months and I ain't seen the jail
Making music that makes a meal
Fuck the recognition
But I guess my record just too
Reckless for the record business
Won't sell my soul to chase a
Check but I be checking niggas
Ether them in interviews
Industry put lames in the
Game like Duncan Pinderhughes
Think these niggas change they persona
Then let you pick and choose
Eenie-miney-mo, so don't try me ho bitch
I been a fool
Psychopathic whoop-ass like Michael daddy
Everything that touch my skin brand name
My brand new Caddy
Got that pussy-wet paint as I
Sit on the softest leather
I ain't tripping, joe
My ticket to heaven could cost whatever
I just pray the Lord don't toss me
With Satan off in the cheap seats
Thought of dying broke with no
Legacy make my knees weak
Cause I proceed to make ends bleed
Let it be grizzly
Getting green by any means out
On these mean streets
Uhh, tales of the terrorist
Felonious, red-blooded American
Young, black, felonious, red-blooded American
Gave this bitch a taste of that lil' boy
She cherished it fucked her veins up
Now she shoot her foot with the heroin
Twinkle toes
Know single hoes that like to treat they nose
Sending muff pics
Photos that got they treat exposed
I swear you oughta keep your
Daughter from this dirtbag
Dog nigga, scum of the Earth
For what it's worth
I been handling probation well
Smoking blunts
36 months and I ain't seen the jail
Making music that makes a meal
Fuck the recognition
But I guess my record just too
Reckless for the record business
Won't sell my soul to chase a
Check but I be checking niggas
Ether them in interviews
Industry put lames in the
Game like Duncan Pinderhughes
Think these niggas change they persona
Then let you pick and choose
Eenie-miney-mo, so don't try me ho bitch
I been a fool
Psychopathic whoop-ass like Michael daddy
Everything that touch my skin brand name
My brand new Caddy
Got that pussy-wet paint as I
Sit on the softest leather
I ain't tripping, joe
My ticket to heaven could cost whatever
I just pray the Lord don't toss me
With Satan off in the cheap seats
Thought of dying broke with no
Legacy make my knees weak
Cause I proceed to make ends bleed
Let it be grizzly
Getting green by any means out
On these mean streets
Uhh, tales of the terrorist
Felonious, red-blooded American