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d'shaun - blue powerade lyrics
[verse: d’shaun]
i don’t believe in too much religion
not superst-tious, i was born a christian
i was born with missions, i was purposely purposed
for maybach’s with curtains, and b-tches with birkin’s
hoes is distractions
i’m casually macking
but never forgetting
the mother f-cking plan
win and take over
the ghost with a chauffeur
a neck full a gold
and a room with awards
i been playing the back
like i catch in the outfield
bros in the trenches
my n-ggas is outchea
and i get so high
i get higher than light years
i just bought a crib
if you bad i’ll invite ya
n-ggas keep arms
like the legs of a spider
i teller i love her
but bet i won’t wife her
if she got that fire
then i have to ignite her
my gold grill is bright
as that future behind her
top 5 in my state
if you need a reminder
i’m sleep on these n-ggas
like pillows, recliners
i pop like a condom
and bust on a b-tch
i pull up with them sticks
both them blunts look like twix
i sip on that mix
and i mix what i sip
got me creeping and crawling
like toddlers with bibs
it’s just me, that boy 1-8
and wave in this b-tch
all this smoke
it’s a ganja parade in this b-tch
and i skate on yo hoe
i cascade on that b-tch
because i like her hips
and the way that she switch
black and white
at the spot, she dalmatian n sh-t
yeah i’m running these plays
but don’t play with this sh-t
yeah my boys always said
i would make it n sh-t
but i wonder how long
it’s gone take for that sh-t
and my girl just keep saying
be patient n sh-t
but i got no time
to be waiting on sh-t
i just ran up on a cinderella
gl-ss bottle’s like a gl-ss slipper
she gone sip the tech
and she gone take the hammer
i’ma film a movie on my iphone camera
i’ma put her on
to this country grammar
she gone pop them bars
like breaking out the slammer
never take her home
to meet my mom and grandma
young texas player
got it from my grandpa
i be posted leaning
like a f-cking ramp
before she hit the crib
i gotta stamp her hand
lotta sh-t has changed
but i can’t complain
cuss my t–th on bling
and pockets on romaine
i been doing my thang
n-gga that’s all i know
i been blowing the dro
n-gga that’s all i roll
i been flipping the flow
cuss n-ggas got no flows
got no hoes, got no gold
got no shows
got no fans
got no plans
got no mans
got no hands, no advance
no b-tch with tans
no crib with granite countertops
& pots and pans
these n-ggas not the man
but ima drop my sh-t
drop sh-t, f-ck all ya politics
saucing like condiments
hot as a pot of grits
member these hoes
wouldn’t gimme no compliments
now when i’m ’round
they treat me like the hottest sh-t
prime in ya optimus
clear as ya optics is
who is you up against?
my dogs run up a fence
tryna run up a check
i might just break ya neck
i will not show respect
f-ck ya hood and ya set
n-ggas ain’t nothing but some player haters
i’m just outchea balling like a f-cking laker
i be smooth enough to serve the f-cking waiter
still catching fades, with a fresh tapered
young paper boy, but sh-t i chase the paper
told a p-ssy n-gga, time to meet the maker
told a bad b-tch lemme renovate ya
gimme sweet love, like anita baker
my heart cold as my double cup
n-ggas double-crossed and i doubled up
n-ggas backstabbed, so i muscled up
now we in this b-tch like what the f-ck is up?
n-ggas tried to k!ll me
but they unsuccessful
i ‘ont see death
on this month’s schedule
i see all these rappers
they all pots and kettles
i’ma p-ss em off
i need a pot to p-ss in
i don’t need ya mentions
i be in the trenches
everybody seen it
but n0body witnessed
mother f-ck a friendship
i be really with it
my palms is itching
a n-gga gotta get it
young ceo
and i be bout my business
and i’ma run this sh-t
until the race is finished
feel like master p
i don’t see no limit
i rep rylty
until these n-ggas k!ll me, uh
[hook]
n-ggas ain’t nothing but some player haters
n-ggas never wanna see you make paper
n-ggas ain’t nothing but some player haters
tell a f-ck n-gga, f-ck away from me
uh
b-tches ain’t sh-t but some player haters
all them hoes wanna do is take paper
b-tches ain’t nothing but some player haters
tell a bopping b-tch the f-ck away from me, (x2)
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