Testo Reap the City P2 - YFG FATSO
Testo della canzone Reap the City P2 (YFG FATSO), tratta dall'album A Reaper's Ceremony
(Swaggyono)
(I'm working on dying)
Come on, yeah, come on
At any given chance, we gon' drench the man (whoa, whoa)
Only got one hat, the fuck is that? You ain't no drencher then (whoa, whoa)
This bitch gettin' in V Live with all these hos, just bring my niggas in (whoa, whoa)
Pattin' his pockets down, if he not one of mine, can't bring his pistol in (whoa, whoa)
Thumbin' through racks, R.I.P. to lil' Do It, he checked, I'll never forget my mans (whoa, whoa)
He used to come as a threat, he was ready to press, any time, he'll sic a man (whoa, whoa)
No dog, but shorty a dog when he holdin' the yawk, wintertime, he the Christmas man (whoa, whoa)
They ain't know I ain't believe that much in a God, why I got scriptures then? (Whoa, whoa)
Headlocks, we who puttin' this rap shit up in headlocks (whoa, whoa)
Deadshot, he heard the ten rock, shit made his legs stop (whoa, whoa)
I will not fall victim or play with, no, man (whoa, whoa)
We was worse, my brother seen the hearse, said, "Fuck it," called it God's plot (whoa, whoa)
Still me, just a lil' more knots, I guess I'm overheat (whoa, whoa)
Fuck me 'til I'm tired and fall asleep, wake up, get somethin' to eat (whoa, whoa)
Only me and my Reaps, or course, you know my squad reap (whoa, whoa)
Young eight 'nem was dangerous, we had glizzies, postin' all week (whoa, whoa)
This life ain't no game, once you start bangin', this shit all week (whoa, whoa)
Post up, I be hangin' all while I can't indulge in danglin' (whoa, whoa)
Caught his first one, told him frame, he robbin' shit, but it wasn't all sweet (whoa, whoa)
She might suck me nice, my favorite GOAT, but I can't stand sleep (whoa, whoa)
Lay me down in my bed, if I snitch, somebody lay me down (whoa, whoa)
Take it all back, know I'm good, I ain't never gon' rat, if I would, I'll kill me now (whoa, whoa)
Get more los and camp on 'em 'til he come out, we ain't come here to not get wild (whoa, whoa)
Drac' on a mission, I'm knowin' this dangerous rounds, I ain't come here to not get loud (whoa, whoa)
Off, I'm sellin' fiends the hardest off, it don't matter, they trip me out (whoa, whoa)
We set it off, we the first ones jump the 'Hawk, we ain't known to be playin' around (whoa, whoa)
This shit raw, if a nigga say turn me off, got it on me, just playin' a foul (whoa, whoa)
I'm way too hard for the industry, but they ain't get me when I speak out (whoa, whoa)
What the fuck do he mean?
I guess he ain't think it was real 'til he got peeled, we up, DOA (whoa, whoa)
You talk off of Triller and all your real clout, put wood in face (whoa, whoa)
I can't sit in my hood, they spicy as fuck and the pigs, they'll know my face (whoa, whoa)
I guess I can't cry about none of these bitches, they feelin' me literally every new state (whoa, whoa)
I guess it ain't wrong, we took what a nigga was eatin', how he gon' survive without no plate? (Whoa, whoa)
I'll bring 'em out with them members, but, nah, I ain't takin' 'em on no dates (whoa, whoa)
I guess I done did too much at a young age, it ain't that much in my way (whoa, whoa)
I just be goin' to work, I don't sit up in church, so you know I wasn't sayin' my grace, but I'm tryna pray (whoa, whoa)
Tryna dodge a fed sentence, I don't wanna die up in jail, I'm way too hard (whoa, whoa)
We'll leave his dreads twisted, two shot out the ten, loose up his locks (whoa, whoa)
This was 'posed to been here, I been grindin', I do this a lot (whoa, whoa)
This shit ain't no skit, he play with foenem, switch a tiny box (whoa, whoa)
Too many rumors around my name 'cause all these thots (whoa, whoa)
Don't trust hoes, lil' bro, they quick to fuck off they emotions and that'll get somebody shot (whoa, whoa)
Don't read the blogs about me, tell 'em to eat my cock (whoa, whoa)
And I been steppin' on shit with my feet, feelin' comfortable, ho, I'm in high-top Crocs (whoa, whoa)
Just do it 'til I say stop
At any given chance, we gon' drench the man (whoa, whoa)
Only got one hat, the fuck is that? You ain't no drencher then (whoa, whoa)
This bitch gettin' in V Live with all these hoes, just bring my niggas in (whoa, whoa)
Pattin' his pockets down, if he not one of mine, can't bring his pistol in (whoa, whoa)
Thumbin' through racks, R.I.P. to lil' Do It, he checked, I'll never forget my mans (whoa, whoa)
He used to come as a threat, he was ready to press, any time, he'll sic a man (whoa, whoa)
No dog, but shorty a dog when he holdin' the yawk, wintertime, he the Christmas man (whoa, whoa)
They ain't know I ain't believe that much in a God, why I got scriptures then? (Whoa, whoa)
Whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa
Credits
Writer(s): Cyrick Palmer, Christopher Mosley, Jack Cohen Mungan
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.