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dbstan - we dem boys lyrics
[verse 1: leanzus]
i got hoes from overseas
i got hoes i over see
i get up in the ovaries
a month later they over me
cop a range rover
blow kush never sober
know ima stoner
rap game owner
she let us hit it cuz we dem boys
watch em pivot cuz we got toys
i aint gotta shoot
my boy a do ya and the time
we in love with crime
we in love with dimes
we run up on ya in the subline
or rob ya in the hood like sublime
my boys down to ride and to die
look in his eyes as he dies moma crys
i lost my heart a long time ago
so i don’t concern you or yo bro
[verse 2: ibcircuits]
hol up, hol up, hol up, i’m a true g
and i got your ho, she just blew me
after that, tell her i’mma leave once i f-ck her
i’m just being honest ’bout our future
smoking kush in my pt cruiser
its convertible
if you b-tches try and break me (heh)
i’m unbreakable
did i f-ck your b-tch?
that’s confirmable
hol up, hol up, hol up
i just f-cked your b-tch in some k-mart flip-flops
very many rhymes, this is real hip-hop
po’ some more up, never slow up with the sippin’ of this syrup
got a ho ridin’ me, she put her foot in the stirrup
[verse 3: godamongstkings]
she pull through, the jag swerved
i ate the booty like a pack nerds
or a box of nerds, i don’t box with nerds
raisin middle fingers and a gat to herds
prasing every verse from gak, what you heard
my b-tch better look like robin givens
boomerang that p-ssy, whole squad gonna hit it
oh, what you tough really
you know what get’s that tough feeling
watchin yo girl on my d-ck struggle breathing
kidnapped rap, ransom at a hunnid million
not enough credit really, sh-t i mean i gave it back
knockout flow, credits really do just fade to black
plug fam, see me now, shoutout
better relationships than bet and bow wow
f-ck a critic, they in need of a sharkiesha
no for real, give my number to anita
sarkeesian
she can critique my stroke while she’s recieving it
if she start to b-tch then i’m like see ya
smack the sh-t out of a diva
this a game and i don’t play nice
you a b-tch and i’m ray rice
is you ready spar?!
wake up with a broke d-ck and yo radio gone!
i roll with royce, rolls royce and some chronic
roll out like stephen hawkins
stab a f-ggot b-tch named boyce watkins
i could choke religion out a crucifix
while chokin on some buddha with my buddhist friends
if i ever fall off i pray hannah stockings stoppin on me
then bounce back up cuz i should be there inside kehlani
i don’t f-ck 10’s my type is 2 cards higher
sh-t i’m beginning to think i’m supa hot fire
tyb gang
t-y-b-g-a-n-g
tyb gang in yo b-tch
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