Testo Loaded - Key Glock
Testo della canzone Loaded (Key Glock), tratta dall'album Yellow Tape
Yeah
Woah, Kenny! Ayy
What's up, doc? Ayy, I got carats (What's up?)
Diamonds in my wrist jump around like a rabbit
Catch me out in traffic with them choppas I'm a savage (woop)
Chilling with a baddie now my ex-bitch jealous (Yeah)
Flexing so hard now my friends say I'm petty (Uh)
Everybody know that I'm a bad bitch bandit (Yeah)
I be fly as fuck ain't no telling when I'm landing
Yeah, this shit getting epic and my wrist on Atlantic
Ocean, foreign whip coasting
Sipping potion, moving slow motion
Got me like, "Oh shit", might start dozing (Yup)
Wrist start hurting, put ice on my Rollie (Ice)
Racks not folding, pants get swollen (Yeah)
My rose froze, spent twenty on emoji (Yeah)
Strapped like soldiers, bitch, you know it
Bank accounts and my guns loaded (Yeah)
Smoke a lot of weed like I grow it
I got old money, ain't moldy, yeah
Jewelry game get a bitch cozy, ooh
So, so smooth no lotion, yeah
Ride around town with a toaster, uh
Yeah, bitch, I'ma pop up for the bread
Lil' nigga you do the mostest, yuh
That's what this dumb bitch just said
Fucked on the floor, made her fall out the bed
Ayy before you go, can I get some more head?
Ayy, kicked out the door, then I hopped in my Benz
Yeah, I did it again, but this time with her friend
Yeah, bring her back like I'm Shaq at the rim
Yeah, told that bitch I'm the creme de la creme
Yeah, told that bitch that I'm the best that it is
Yeah, told that bitch that she know what it is, uh
Spent a million on ice just to chill
Got some more water, might buy some gills
Yeah, they be like, "This lil' nigga is ill"
Yeah, they be like, "This lil' nigga for real"
Uh, off the porch straight to the field
Yeah, I'm rich and still ride with my steel
Yeah, I put crystal balls on my ears
Uh, I'm balling hard, bitch, I got skills
What's up, doc? Ayy, I got carats (What's up?)
Diamonds in my wrist jump around like a rabbit
Catch me out in traffic with them choppas I'm a savage (Suwoop)
Chilling with a baddie now my ex-bitch jealous (Yeah)
Flexing so hard now my friends say I'm petty (Uh)
Everybody know that I'm a bad bitch bandit (Yeah)
I be fly as fuck ain't no telling when I'm landing
Yeah, this shit getting epic and my wrist on Atlantic
Ocean, foreign whip coasting
Sipping potion, moving slow motion
Got me like, "Oh shit", might start dozing (Yup)
Wrist start hurting, put ice on my Rollie (Ice)
Racks not folding, pants get swollen (Yeah)
My rose froze, spent twenty on emoji (Yeah)
Strapped like soldiers, bitch, you know it
Bank accounts and my guns loaded (Yeah), yeah
Credits
Writer(s): Markeyvius Cathey, Kenneth Charles Iii Blume
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