Testo Flame Out - VonOff1700
Testo della canzone Flame Out (VonOff1700), tratta dall'album #FreeMyHoodFuckYoHood
This finna be hard as fuck (Leeky)
Yep (I love you, Kay)
Free my hood, nigga, fuck your hood, nigga
For real, a'ight, okay
Lil' Vono, he don't play with niggas (y'all know that)
When we hit they block, I'm the first to bounce out chasin' niggas (come here, come here)
Don't come 'round tryna kick it, Toss Gang slimy, we'll take a nigga (for real)
Bubba, Three, and Brick, them my dogs, I go on capers with 'em
When I chased him down, I got up close, I asked, "Where the fuck was you goin'?" (You dumbass)
Beat up his ride, left his shit all on the side, his head was honkin' the horn (the fuck?)
We killed that nigga on camera, play that shit back, we watchin' this bitch like a porn (shit)
The fuck is I'm buyin' a car for? I'll have Baby Corey 'nem go snatch me a foreign
30 deep up in my clip, when I up off the hip
I'm shootin' this bitch like Jordan (you know that)
Caught his ass tryna get gas, bounced out blastin', we left his dumb ass at Thorntons (dumbass)
Hit his ass all in his legs, he can't even walk, it look like he had an abortion (the fuck?)
Now I'm finna get rich, now everybody on my dick, so, no, you not gettin' a portion
I did this shit myself, I didn't need help, so why niggas think they important? (For real, dumbass)
We killed his ass and the opps don't even care, they treat his lil' ass like an orphan
Okay, he wonder why his bitch ain't home
Can't leave me alone, she over here fuckin' a horseman (okay)
You niggas be tryin' too hard, that's why I'm turnt, not burnt, I don't gotta force it
On God, I killed that nigga, they ain't believe me, I said that shit like Korporate (on God)
That nigga was dead on the ground, we got us a picture, we took that bitch in portrait (for real)
A bitch put a pic' on IG while a nigga was sleep, I told bro'nem report it
What cars we ridin', the Track', the Scat, the 'Cat? I don't know, we got too many choices (fast shit)
One side tellin' me to go kill, one tellin' me to chill, I'm hearin' way too many voices
This not a regular Jeep, just look at the seat, this bitch got too many horses
The gang got only Glocks, you wouldn't believe it, you would think we got an endorsement
In a high-speed chase, you know that we gettin' away, they callin' for reinforcements
Diss on the gang and watch how fast we blow your brains out (damn)
Uh, we got his lo' and sat outside, he never came out (his bitch ass)
Uh, since you tough, drop your dot, let's have a bang out (right now)
Famous called my phone, he just knocked another Sane out
Bitch, you here to fuck, not to play, this not a game house (dumbass)
Bitch, I want a 'Wood, gold watch, stuck there, I'm at the same house (you know that)
I fucked her good, that bitch gave me her keys, now this the gang house
You was the nigga then, but now I'm that nigga now, lil' boy, your flame out (nigga)
(Free my hood, nigga) free my hood, nigga
(Fuck your hood, nigga) fuck your hood, nigga
I'm still on the Ave where it's all good, nigga
Free Lil Three, nigga, free Morrie, nigga
Free the whole gang, nigga
I don't know, nigga, murderers, nigga
I made you niggas, I'll end you niggas
I don't wanna be friends with you niggas
The fuck? Come on, man
We gone, yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Caleb Proctor, Davon Damon Meeks, Jonathan Malik Mendez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Disclaimer:
i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare
direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia
un artista o
un publisher.