Testo Mailbox - Chief Keef
Testo della canzone Mailbox (Chief Keef), tratta dall'album Mailbox
No I can't come down, bitch I'm too turnt up
Judge gon give me life, Foreign door Murders
Sitting at a red light, pourin' this purp up
See this LV on my boxers, Why I'm lifting my shirt up
Cops try to search us, hoes tryna twerk us
Walk in with all this ice, Did it on purpose
Got spice like red hot, need to keep ya tail tucked
Have folks nem deliver this to you, put it in ya mailbox
Niggas be really knowin', bitches be really goin
Look up and the ceiling gone, that ass I'm feelin' on
Need a Christina Milian, I could pop me a wheelie on
Bout to go get some more chains
Like I ain't got enough jewelry on
Went to the trap last night, and I looked up it was dawn
Got a U-Haul backing in, with equipment & more laundry
You know we ain't really for none, All I know is get paper
I know killas and they owe me big favors, Bitches XO me like Weeknd
I'm somewhere out eating, stay yo ass in 2 feet
Or go yo ass on the deep end, someone hand me a ashtray
That's my boys who passed away, keep my mouth laminated
Till the day I'm eliminated
No I can't come down, bitch I'm too turnt up
Judge gon give me life, Foreign door Murders
Sitting at a red light, pourin' this purp up
See this LV on my boxers, Why I'm lifting my shirt up
Cops try to search us, hoes tryna twerk us
Walk in with all this ice, Did it on purpose
Got spice like red hot, need to keep ya tail tucked
Have folks nem deliver this to you, put it in ya mailbox
What's yo address nigga? Where you live at nigga?
We ain't tryna hear that nigga, you know I'm a real ass nigga
Know I gotta get cash nigga, You know I want it real bad nigga
My young niggas run down on you, treat you like a lil ass nigga
Bitches see the ice, they see the cars, they see the Benz they in the mood
They get in, into the spot, that's where the cars gon' take us to
I need top, I told them bitches that like it was breaking news
And you know I be about my chicken, bitch no Ramen noodles
Jail cell not even bigger than my pantry
We can't leave no trace I guess them gloves come in handy
It's lovely now, bitches be loving me now aye, had the bitch suckin me up
She might end up shutting me down aye
No I can't come down, bitch I'm too turnt up
Judge gon give me life, Foreign door Murders
Sitting at a red light, pourin' this purp up
See this LV on my boxers, Why I'm lifting my shirt up
Cops try to search us, hoes tryna twerk us
Walk in with all this ice, Did it on purpose
Got spice like red hot, need to keep ya tail tucked
Have folks nem deliver this to you, put it in ya mailbox
Credits
Writer(s): Dwayne Richardson, Keith Cozart
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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