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don trip & pif - rick & chris كلمات الأغنية

[intro: pif]
(jp trackz)
(dt da kidd)
(beat those drums)
let’s do this

[verse 1: pif & don trip]
if i gotta break my neck, i’ma chase that cash, i’ma get that check
runnin’ laps ’round n_ggas, i’m runnin’ backwards and ain’t broke a sweat
we back on deck, that’s on the set
i want smoke, these words to whoop on ’em
hand and foot on ’em
pull up, pull it, and push on ’em
and look at the look on ’em
go dumb, i act a donkey
play with your p_ssy, don’t play with my money
the coach and the owner, i’m in it and on it
this sh_t is so in me and i keep it on me
slide on ’em, hide, homie
leadin’ my city, i run the olympics
i’m lit like a bic on you, biggie
(lit like a bic on you, biggie)
hit the h_rn on you haters, you hear the hemi
ain’t stood on they necks in a minute
give ’em the business, make n_ggas feel it
dead_ass serious, pop like a period
make n_ggas in the back hear it (yeah)
make a n_gga pull up and clear it (yeah)
s_x, if you don’t sweat, i can’t take it serious
on milk (okay)
[verse 2: don trip]
big i, little u
yeah, know it’s selfish, may be rude
but it’s still true, i just want the loot
all my money, all these faces blue
all these n_ggas square, i been sellin’ cubes
it ain’t ’bout the money, i’m not in the mood
all about a dollar, tell me somethin’ new
i’ma make forbes, you gon’ make the news
oh, but i better make it home for dinner
shorty whip the chicken, call it mrs. winners
all i know is blocks like i’m playin’ center
chopper got a drum like it’s playin’ tenor
hold my fam up, i’ma be suspenders
or a pair of crutches, okay, easy does it
with somebody woman only for a moment
i don’t even like her, i’ma make her love it
all i know is hustle, n_gga, you a customer
stickin’ to it like a suction cup
mama know she made a winner, no, i never gave a f_ck about a runners_up
i got rich on my eleventh try, ain’t qualify for no beginner’s luck
i just took the kids to six flags, had the pistol tucked in my swimming trunks
took a moment, never took a moment off, i ain’t never took a sick day
my lil’ homie caught a body, dropped a n_gga broad day, he on display
d_mn, same song, just a different day, another record scratch
could tell you to stop the violence, but i’m the pot callin’ the kettle black
i’m the cat with all the weapons stacked, got a nickname for like every strap
i’m the n_gga with the burner phone for the plug even though i left the trap
godd_mn, f_ck you, you couldn’t judge me if you was your honor
sorry, i can’t hear a thing, here to k!ll the game, go on, wrap a rug around it
go on, lock it in the trunk, scream if you want, all we hear is subs pounding
pistol on me, can’t sleep without it
nuts heavy, so they keep me grounded
sorry if i led you wrong, i thought it was on, then i went astray
drop the sh_t you doing, go and get paid
hope is running late and help ain’t on the way
long live pif
[outro]
(jp trackz)
(dt da kidd)
(beat those drums)

- don trip pif

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