SosMula - Shibuya Tyson Freestyle lyrics
SosMula [Vinicius Sosa] São Paulo, Brasil/U.S. 🇧🇷 🇺🇸
[SosMula - Shibuya Tyson Freestyle lyrics]
Son, you can tell Pablo I'm the El Chapo
Lens on the Tommy
Blow the limbs off your body
'cause the shells hollow
Ayo, I'm scorin', foreign, Chanel model
Chanel swallow just in case I bust on her
Face she wore Chanel goggles
Listen, I'ma order shipments from the border
Whole blocks, stove top
Whippin' up a quarter
That yay' like a great white
It's swimmin' in the water
Brick squad like Gucci, rich gang like Baby
Bricks raw like sushi, flip 'caine all crazy
S550 Navy 'cedes, your bitch nine months?
That's maybe my baby
Pocket rocket on me, baby 380
You play me, you crazy
Remember the times when my kicks
Used to look bad? I used to holler
Bad bitches wouldn't look back?
Now I'm the guala with the
Bricks of the cooked crack
Like shorty from Fresh
With a brick in his book bag
Sitting in jail, I done had my worst nights
One way trip to hell
Judge put me on that first flight
Predicate felon over if I
Catch a third strike
Is it really worth life?
Niggas getting murked like
But all my work white, bricks at a dirt price
Cribs get ransacked, nigga
Where them bands at?
Nigga, where the bricks of dope
On that saran wrap?
I'ma count to ten then you
Gon' get blammed at
Shoot 'til it's empty case you wanna tempt me
Remember back then when my
Shoes was the Skippys?
Now it's Lou's and Balenci's
Looking at the mirror, I see you in a Bentley
Lens on the Tommy
Blow the limbs off your body
'cause the shells hollow
Ayo, I'm scorin', foreign, Chanel model
Chanel swallow just in case I bust on her
Face she wore Chanel goggles
Listen, I'ma order shipments from the border
Whole blocks, stove top
Whippin' up a quarter
That yay' like a great white
It's swimmin' in the water
Brick squad like Gucci, rich gang like Baby
Bricks raw like sushi, flip 'caine all crazy
S550 Navy 'cedes, your bitch nine months?
That's maybe my baby
Pocket rocket on me, baby 380
You play me, you crazy
Remember the times when my kicks
Used to look bad? I used to holler
Bad bitches wouldn't look back?
Now I'm the guala with the
Bricks of the cooked crack
Like shorty from Fresh
With a brick in his book bag
Sitting in jail, I done had my worst nights
One way trip to hell
Judge put me on that first flight
Predicate felon over if I
Catch a third strike
Is it really worth life?
Niggas getting murked like
But all my work white, bricks at a dirt price
Cribs get ransacked, nigga
Where them bands at?
Nigga, where the bricks of dope
On that saran wrap?
I'ma count to ten then you
Gon' get blammed at
Shoot 'til it's empty case you wanna tempt me
Remember back then when my
Shoes was the Skippys?
Now it's Lou's and Balenci's
Looking at the mirror, I see you in a Bentley