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fatt macc - freestyle كلمات أغنية

[intro: fatt macc]
(mm, manny, cook that sh_t up)
yeah

[verse 1: fatt macc]
i can’t even sleep at night, phone still ringin’, old_head knockin’ (on god)
i got on six_thousand dollar jeans, jesus_head chain, went and caught a body (six racks)
i’m on promethazine, codeine, and i just took a half a roxy (real tris)
i ain’t got a cold, but i’m sippin’ tuss, got the styrofoam snotty (on god)
i got a couple thousand for you, b_tch, you hit the road for the kid (sh_t)
i got a couple thousand for you, n_gga, you hit the block with the switch (frrt)
mix the pai with the tuss, n_gga, you ain’t never did this sh_t here before (i’m high as a b_tch)
brother came in the clutch, got a gold stack, bet it on the ten or four (rich)

[verse 2: ytb fatt]
nine lams and my bucket (mm)
make the b_tch f_ck me and my brother (skyami slidin’)
that bee bentley buzzin’
bake this cake, put the p_ssy in the oven
make a million poppin’ sh_t, nothin’ like this
she suck my d_ck, must like how my ice hit
white thick b_tch kinda like kylie jenner
i’m front row bet like backend
war stories, ain’t goin’ for it, can’t do it
grab my guns out the pond, you f_ck with me
f_ck that cream soda, come drop a deuce in it
i got the mids, you gon’ care about me, f_ck with me
i could put my name on it, come turn your trap up
hundred ‘bows gone, n_gga can’t f_ck with me
bad b_tch in ‘lac truck, lap up
make love to a muslim b_tch, she indian
[verse 3: fox bd]
i could see myself big as f_ck in a year, flew right past, this my opinion
this a ten_hour drive, got dope in this car, can’t smoke weed, know i’m a g_nius (i’m bd)
them n_ggas tried to come around gang for mentions, mouth closed like ferb and phineas (that sh_t weak)
it’s cold as f_ck, the snitches wrappin’ up, camera all the business (i’m scared)
it’s get down or lay down, foxes comin’ like suge knight and beanie siegel (frrt, frrt)
my biggest pet peeve hangin’ with new n_ggas, scared they play with beepers (uh, no phones)
couldn’t afford no tris back then, ain’t throwin’ sh_t away, empty bottles, i keep ’em (huh, on trill)
you can’t put your mouth on my cup, you don’t even brush your t__th, heard your sh_t be lethal

[outro]
(start the b_tch over, carl)

- fatt macc

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