Summrs - Counterfeit lyrics
Summrs [Deante Adam Johnson] Lafayette, Louisiana, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Summrs - Counterfeit lyrics]
Snoozed
Skress
Neilaworld
Lotta' racks on me, no counterfeit
Talking shit, you get hit with a blick
Pop a little perc take me
Outta space real quick
Tell the cops catch up we too quick
Tell my ex bitch, "suck my fucking dick"
I go too damn hard for that bitch
I got two fucking sticks feel like Wick
Margiela, Helmut Lang, on my fit
Hop off a jet then hop in my fuckin' bag!
Where my chauffeur
Tell that nigga come get my bag
Fore' I put the fucking racks on his ass
Have them shooters come eliminate his ass
They don't come in back
Until they complete the test
Heard ya ass shit lil boy, I swear that
That shit was too trash
Go get some food, then I record
Swear that this shit need a Plaque
Blue benji's, I need some more
I can never get enough that's facts
Play with the money, like sport
We gon' wet that nigga with no remorse
Hop in the rari, hop in a fucking horse
I'm wit' the gang
Even if I go to the dollar store
Do I got some money?, of course
Lil nigga need a stick, to do his chores
Said you want smoke? Okay
Send you to the lord
That Kel Tec sing like it
Got some vocal cords
Lotta' racks on me, no counterfeit
Talking shit, you get hit with a blick
Pop a little perc take me
Outta space real quick
Tell the cops catch up we too quick
Tell my ex bitch, "suck my fucking dick"
I go too damn hard for that bitch
I got two fucking sticks feel like Wick
Margiela, Helmut Lang, on my fit
Skress
Neilaworld
Lotta' racks on me, no counterfeit
Talking shit, you get hit with a blick
Pop a little perc take me
Outta space real quick
Tell the cops catch up we too quick
Tell my ex bitch, "suck my fucking dick"
I go too damn hard for that bitch
I got two fucking sticks feel like Wick
Margiela, Helmut Lang, on my fit
Hop off a jet then hop in my fuckin' bag!
Where my chauffeur
Tell that nigga come get my bag
Fore' I put the fucking racks on his ass
Have them shooters come eliminate his ass
They don't come in back
Until they complete the test
Heard ya ass shit lil boy, I swear that
That shit was too trash
Go get some food, then I record
Swear that this shit need a Plaque
Blue benji's, I need some more
I can never get enough that's facts
Play with the money, like sport
We gon' wet that nigga with no remorse
Hop in the rari, hop in a fucking horse
I'm wit' the gang
Even if I go to the dollar store
Do I got some money?, of course
Lil nigga need a stick, to do his chores
Said you want smoke? Okay
Send you to the lord
That Kel Tec sing like it
Got some vocal cords
Lotta' racks on me, no counterfeit
Talking shit, you get hit with a blick
Pop a little perc take me
Outta space real quick
Tell the cops catch up we too quick
Tell my ex bitch, "suck my fucking dick"
I go too damn hard for that bitch
I got two fucking sticks feel like Wick
Margiela, Helmut Lang, on my fit