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bzargoodboy - nora lyrics
[intro: mekhi phifer, , & bzargoodboy]
i’m about to be on some real murder sh_t, a
i’m tellin’ you, man, any n_gga that ever looked at me wrong (, h_ll yeah, what the f_ck?)
owes me money, or ever said any jealous bullsh_t about me is f_ckin’ dead (alright)
you understand what the f_ck i’m sayin’? they’re f_ckin’ dead (yeah_yeah_yeah)
i don’t give a f_ck about nothin’ (alright, look)
[verse 1: bzargoodboy]
where—, redacted? i’m tryna bust a nut
yo’ b_tch don’t even spoon no more, y’all sleep b_tt_to_b_tt
i just poured a cup of—, yeah, now i’m f_ckin’ stuck
oh, you wanna—, alright, good f_ckin’ luck
gooseneck clip on the a_r, i’ll make them duck_duck_duck
i’ll sn_tch his intestines out and play double dutch
s_n_s went so d_mn hard, they had to shuffle us
me and ben frank in the bed, real cuddled up
sippin’ on that chemical x, like i’m b_ttercup
square n_gga try to rob us? blow his bubble up
slash a n_gga in his chin, and make his stubble up
[?] make his car bomb, like a shuttle bus
[verse 2: pe$o pete]
he was talkin’ all that sh_t, but he pause, he ain’t bussin’ up
man, it’s f_ck the world, then i f_ck my girl, i ain’t bustin’ up
it’s a team plan, you want money wit’ us? time to huddle up
he ain’t stackin’? it’s a f_ckin’ fund, he ain’t packin’? that’s a f_ckin’ stunt
all this yappin’, ain’t no action, told that b_tch, “we gon’ f_ck or what?”
lookin’ for yo’ bag and yo’ b_tch, is this a f_ckin’ hunt?
i was trippin’ ’bout some sh_t, now i’m really up
getcho money up and not yo’ funny up, y’all just silly, huh? dumbass
[verse 3: bzargoodboy]
nicotine and caffeinated drinks, but they sugarless
that boy ain’t only p_ssy, he sugar sh_t
tell my shooter, “the target got a cold”, and his booger flip
[?] and let my nuts hang like hooker tits
foreign hoe tried to say my name and she butchered it
get close to foolin’ me once and you pushin’ it
let a n_gga get loud wit’ me and i’m shushin’ it
told myself, “when you cookin’ up, [?] it”
[verse 4: pe$o pete]
[?] when we rappin’ in this b_tch, uh, d_mn
rappin’ in this b_tch, ain’t no breaks or hooks in it
got my mind on the money, ain’t no muhf_ckin’ books in it
got my left wrist on patrick, told a b_tch, “just look at it!”
stop all that talkin’ sh_t, yo’ ass tellin’ lies
right wrist, terastallize, i’m not like them other guys
back in days, it sound like f_ckin’ murder, now it’s homicide
yo’ ass ain’t do sh_t with that gun, sh_t was dramatized
hold on, left wrist like rotom mow
left wrist, rotom wash, b_tch like “what?”, huh?
give them b_tches moby d_ck, sh_t like a harpoon
i’m pourin’ double ed and edd, like the cartoon
[verse 5: bzargoodboy]
boy tried to pull a fast one, he must think he [?]
.4_5’ll make mr. incredible do the dash
you can’t hit the plays you want, ’cause you f_ckin’ ass
you can’t make the moves you want, ’cause you f_ckin’ trash
grab my [?], watch that little wh0re ’cause she think she fast
[?] caught a case and had to sit for a couple acts
learned a lot of sh_t back in my day, now i really [?]
they’ll try to sell you nyquil like it’s really act’
red bull injected in me, them things don’t really [?]
this pressure charge up, i’ll c_ck back, it really smack
they ain’t believe me when i said, “it was”, but it’s really that
he waitin’ on his crush to change his mind, think he [?] the [?]
[?] a [?], step out of line, tell ’em, “face the facts”
white america been tryin’ hard to erase the blacks
you worried ’bout a girl at the crib, had to chase the sack
i done fell off a couple times, always make it back
[outro: pe$o pete]
fat boy, when he see the 9, make him face the mac, big ass boy
like a li’l lonely ass hoe, tote big ass toy
i’mma have to pull it like—, hahaha, i don’t have a rhyme
i don’t have a rhyme for the last one, i’m sorry (i don’t have a rhyme for the last one, i’m sorry)
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