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bfb da packman, awall trent & luh monti – lunch crew on the radar cypher كلمات اغاني

[intro: bfb da packman & luh monti]
yeah, big lunch crew sh_t, man
got the youngest, hottest n_gga out of flint right now
and we ’bout to do our thing, y’ello
yeah, [?] gang, dumbass n_gga
yeah
yeah, let me tell y’all n_ggas somethin’

[verse 1: luh monti]
b_tch, before i signed my deal, i was seein’ stubs
how the f_ck he a trapper? he never sold a ‘bow
before the fame, i got diamonds on my wrist
i’m gettin’ money, i might buy my b_tch a kit
came off the road with a bentley truck on my wrist
when this b_tch called me broke, i d_mn near bought that b_tch
brand_new rollie on my wrist, i could’ve bought a brick
n_ggas always hatin’ on me, boy, get off my d_ck
leave that to your b_tch
all the hoes wanna f_ck me since i got rich
oh, this n_gga talkin’ wet? chop got thirty_six
oh, you kissin’ on that b_tch? last week, she sucked thirty d_cks
i ain’t chicken p, but i could show you how to bust a brick
boy, you did not buy that watch, boy, you stole that kit
i ain’t gon’ judge you, lil’ n_gga, get it how you get it
if you think i’m cappin’ in them songs, then come see how i’m livin’
sn_tched off in the coupe, i forgot the ceiling
labels keep callin’ my phone, b_tch, i want a million
rob a n_gga for everything, he can’t feed his children
i won’t tell you what kind of car we in, but just peep the ceiling
upstairs beatin’ your b_tch down, she fell through the ceiling
htg, we up next, we finna tweak the menu
hit him with the green and red beam, now he think it’s christmas
[?], shoot that b_tch up, that b_tch look suspicious
i got a b_tch, all these hoes in my dms, i let mon hit ’em
b_tch, i’m ridin’ with some pits, get ’em
caught an opp out, the chop jammed, but i shot the pistol
big .308s hit his head, he thought it was a missile
[verse 2: awall trent]
i’ma buy a hundred grams if i don’t make it rappin’
make them b_tches take a two, then i re_pack ’em
plug said take a five, he won’t even tax me
hit them b_tches with the — now they look ashy
they say they want me dead, i ain’t took a shot yet
they say they dug my grave, i ain’t seen a box yet
my n_gga shootin’ movies, you gon’ see a plot quick
have a n_gga rubbin’ on his body, all this hot hit
yeah, b_tch, say it’s up, we bust
interrogated two times, i ain’t told once
i was somewhere on the yard, you was on a bunk
i know n_ggas that’ll ice you for a honey bun
hold on, wait, let’s get this understood
really [?], really from the hood
gave a dime for some head, double if it’s good
shot the drac’ so many times, i d_mn near burned the wood
yeah

[verse 3: bfb da packman]
sh_t_talkin’ music only, but it’s all art
million_dollar n_gga, still stealin’ out of walmart
feds question me, b_tch, i’m silent as a dog fart
opened up a brick of black tar and heard a dog bark
i need to stop ‘fore they hit me with a cce
n_gga think he buyin’ lows, boy, that’s cbd
f_ck a big homie, man, them n_ggas ain’t wanna see me eat
eat the whole bucket of chicken and just leave me grease
i really started from the bottom, i don’t need pity
cash app her five hundred ’cause her weave liftin’
get respect, power come right after, you don’t need 50
h_ll yeah, that b_tch bad, but is her feet pretty?
i faced some different struggles
bust open a pound of dirty donuts, got the kitchen musty
off three lines and two percs, that’s a triple_double
i know i ain’t sh_t, but my mama and my children love me
let me hit my cup
look, i done dropped more fours than the vietnamese
she see my d_ck and mouth start waterin’ like she finna eat
veneers too big, when she suck it, i can feel her t__th
i love a ghetto ho that season chicken in the kitchen sink
let me hit my cup
alright, look
fat, ugly n_gga, but my b_tch make up for it
hoes f_ckin’ for the free, you sick if you rapin’ for it
f_ckin’ on my ex sister, on the low, she hate me for it
my b_tch a barefaced baddie, she don’t need no makeup on it
i used to wear hand_me_downs, now it’s deadstock
balenci’ for my b_tch, but i’m f_ckin’ with the bedrock
i’m slidin’ on this ho like big perm did on craig block
[?] this pack and put a brick inside a headlock
talk to me nice, baby, i’m a gentleman
my dallas b_tch love my accent, i’m from michigan
gettin’ kinda dizzy while i’m mixin’, cut the ceiling fan
scary movie, sellin’ fentanyl with my little hand
uh, hold on
alright, look
i’m [?] with a hot thottie
pray over the p_ssy when i f_ck ’cause the crotch godly
it ain’t trickin’, b_tch, i got a hundred for the slop toppy
bling_bling came from spudd the jeweler, this is not wafi
[outro: bfb da packman & luh monti]
you know what? we done
lunch crew sh_t, man
we done, big lunch crew, y’ello

- bfb da packman awall trent luh monti

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