Slump6s, sgpwes - ​jabawockeez lyrics

[Slump6s, sgpwes - ​jabawockeez lyrics]

ZaySkillz dakota, where are you?
(Uh, okay)

Uh, I'm finna make me a bag, run it up (yeah)
I'm ballin' hard like I play for the Bucks
(yeah)
Chop' hit him once, I got blood on my Dunks
I get her mad, now she call me a cunt (yeah)
That nigga loud, bet this Glock make him hush
(yeah) he talkin' down, we pull up in a rush
(Okay, okay)
I get him gone like I work for the Russians
(Ugh)
We finna pop that lil' boy like a bust (Okay)
Uh, yeah, that nigga mad (yeah)
Uh, yeah, I'm fuckin' his bitch
Uh, yeah, I hop in a Jag'
Uh, your broke ass don't got a whip

You don't got a whip
Hop out the car and I empty the clip
My pockets fat, that shit look like a blimp
(Boom boom boom)
If that nigga cry over hoes, he a simp (Okay)
Bullets hit him and give him a limp
(yeah, uh huh)
Four-fivе hit him and it take off a limb
(O oh)
I'm finna really take off in a jеt (Phew)
Play in this bitch, you get hit in yo' neck
Go to the bank and withdraw all all my checks
(yeah)
He said he better than me, what the heck
I took his ho, he ain't gettin' her back
(Gettin' her back)
I put the bag on yo' head, that's a rack (Ya)
We know he broke, he can't pull out a stack
(Ha ha) that nigga broke and he know it
He say he got money
Well go 'head and show it
Chop' in my hands and you know I'ma blow it
Can't fuck with that ho
Man I swear she annoying
I got the missile and I'm finna deploy it
Thought he was dead so we sent him to God
(We sent him to God)
He like to cap, man, we know he a fraud
I got two pistols named Bonnie and Clyde
(yeah)

Walk in his spot, yeah
Bring a K in that bitch
So much money I think I
Could lay in that bitch
She gettin' wet like a lake in that bitch
Metal mouth, feel like PCAJAY in this bitch
(yeah)
She is a ho, ain't no savin' that bitch
Don't say "Hi!", man
I don't even wave at that bitch
Diamonds, it feel like a wave in this bitch
I'm a buster
I'm feelin' like Dave in this bitch
Shout-out Oxy, I beat on my chest like a ape
How many hoes did I need? About eight
You fuckin' up takin' her on a date
I fuck that ho back to back like I'm Drake
That nigga spent his whole deal on some drank
Feel like Carti
I'm ridin' around in a tank or the tonka
While you still in a Honda, eatin' good
Benihanas
He talkin' down, turn that boy to a gunner
Said you want war
You want war? You don't wanna
Not talkin' Mooky, we make him go boy ta da
We make his shirt go from white to a tie-dye
That bitch is starin'
Gave that ho the side-eye
Hop in the 'cLaren, I'm doin' a drive-by
That nigga Wocky, I call him a Jaba
Talk in the mic, and I made it my job, ah
(yeah)

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