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big noyd - double shots lyrics
it’s a celebration y’all, let’s do it!
(havoc)
yeah y’all
bounce, yeah, bounce
yeah! aight? aiyyo..
cats like, “hav’, what the deal dunn?”
n-gga back on his grind, tryin to k!ll son
a little shorty on some sh-t, oh she still frontin?
but jumped back on the d-ck when she saw me thumpin
straight short n-gga oxin n-ggas givin ’em doctor st-tches
first chance i get, you know i’m sh-ttin
on them fake–ss thugs, stuntin in the club
don’t get scuffed in front of these broads
homey so p-ssy, what they do to they broad
beat them b-tches up if they dance to the mobb
type of sh-t is that?
that won’t stop her from lettin us blow her back, bounce to that
homey we got this locked
like champagne in a wino hand we gon’ pop and
hate on you lame–ss n-ggas, we need not
cause first n-ggas hate on us, they get shot
(2x chorus)
just party, don’t get yourself shot (uh-huh)
leave all the drama back home at the block
at the bar double shots goin down, straight chillin
while the dj, playin what i’m feelin (pimpin them hoes)
(prodigy)
yeah, aiyyo
i’m — permanently bugged, genuinely thugged
i’m hot-blooded, don’t have me with the snub
all at you with the bullets that spray pellets, you f-cked
and i’m back up on shorty with the hourgl-ss cut
we got mountains and we gon’ have a smokefest son
c’mon, feel like vegas, we bringin home used paper
ain’t it amazin i’ll stretch how we keep bangin
we got thousands to spend on them drinks gangsta
queensbridge, mobb deep like terrorists
we come through, blow sh-t up, america’s
nightmares right here live in the flesh
our blood and bone be sittin in ferraris and better
we out in l.a. we drive our own cars, they not renters
and take flights back home to hop up in some next sh-t
while you tryin to get your hand on some cash
we never gotta touch money again, we got plas-tic
(chorus)
(noyd)
feel that n-gga, yeah
okay yo, aiyyo
aiyyo we ain’t gotta lay, we can bang it out neighbor
sh-t, ’til them f-ckin flamers empty out player
cause boy i thought you knew, don’t confuse me with the music
i’m on loadin nines up, ridin up, shootin it
i’m hotter than the corner on the ave out in newark
i’m grimy, you find me where the loot is with lugers
the bodies, the hotties, the hustlers and the shooters
with dudes that’ll cut ya, that’s what eatin your food is
fools know the rules pull out your tools better buck it
cause n-ggas be flaggin and braggin when they cut up your nugget
knee deep in the grind like “f-ck it”
we gotta keep it real son that’s only how the people gon’ love it
and learn to respect the infamous to the death kid
we on another level, yeah we really on some next sh-t
got the techs spittin and makin more connections
makin more cash and blastin more weapons
(chorus)
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