Murda Beatz, Pressa - Bloody Hands lyrics
[Murda Beatz, Pressa - Bloody Hands lyrics]
Bloody, bloody, bloody, bloody, bloody
Pressa m-M-M-Murda
Bloody hands, bloody feet
Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet
Louboutins looking like it's meant for me
I got shooters on they Wass
If them niggas want grief
Bloody hands, bloody feet
Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet
Louboutins looking like it's meant for me
I got shooters on they Wass
If them niggas want grief
Red heels, red sneaks
This the life of every hood nigga dream
There's nights that I couldn't went to sleep
But Pressa got a story of
A life you won't believe
We going out, with a bang
Gotta spill blood if you really wanna hang
Before you leave your house you
Gotta always check your mag
Pressa picked up every time that phone rang
Niggas bitching up you well know
What you signed up for
And I'm on my block pitching
Shit like a pitchfork
Niggas want smoke then we
Turn a nigga Newport
Niggas ain't built from the cloth
Where we been torn
Riding in my city and you know
I got my top down
Bitch, I love my Nina but I
Love how my fists sounds
Go buck wild got a glizzy it's a trey pound
When no one around suh
Everyting ah fi get licked down
I just sold him whip down
Go and learn your wrist now
If you hustle make it count nuh
I think I need my money count
Bloody hands, bloody feet
Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet
Louboutins looking like it's meant for me
I got shooters on they Wass
If them niggas want grief
Bloody hands, bloody feet
Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet
Louboutins looking like it's meant for me
I got shooters on they Wass
If them niggas want grief
Bloody bloody, bloody money
You don't even know what these
Niggas do for money
Niggas getting money all of
Sudden all a suddy
50 on his head catch him and do it for mommy
Price tags, what your amount?
Shoot a nigga dead on his
Block and then we out
I came from trench wars
And homies falling out
You worried about the shoes better
Worry about your belt
Bloody feet when I'm walking out a hoe
You got the right to kill just
Don't do in the house they gave my dad a L
He do push-ups in the cell
Now every move we make yeah
We better make it count 1 2 3 4
And she loves the way I rap about her Dior's
I got plugs overseas call me senior
And I swear I'm so sick I need a kill core
I'm so for if he want war then
Give him what he feel for
Trigger finger so sore
Let me show you how to
Make bloody make the billboards
I'm all about my money like my TuneCore
They want figure out me like they Filmore
Bloody hands, bloody feet
Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet
Louboutins looking like it's meant for me
I got shooters on they Wass
If them niggas want grief
Bloody hands, bloody feet
Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet
Louboutins looking like it's meant for me
I got shooters on they Wass
If them niggas want grief