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glockboyz teejaee - bird flu كلمات الأغنية

[intro: glockboyz teejaee]
mhm, glockboyz, n_gga
free broad day, you know the vibes, n_gga
you know what the f_ck goin’ on, ayy

[chorus: glockboyz teejaee]
remember gucci dropped that bird flu in 2007
before i kept a gun and could lose my life any second
probably way better than jail, but free my n_ggas out of heaven
i tap bro like, “press record”, and i start preachin’ like the reverend
the good die young, i don’t know what roddy was talkin’ ’bout
with a fifty round they shot my n_gga at his mama house
seven days straight, man, it wasn’t sh_t for us to cry about
ridin’ ’round the city like we was tryna buy a house

[verse 1: glockboyz teejaee]
ask around, man, i still be on that dumb sh_ts a kid
man, f_ck all them views, i like huntin’ sh_t
man, still be with them n_ggas out hеre runnin’ sh_t
man, i was in the streets when i was a kid, i don’t know how to play, don’t touch sh_t
ayy, tеll the n_gga it’s for sure just bring a hundred clips, i got a hundred guns
ayy, we ain’t gon’ talk about the choppers, we got a hundred of ’em
with a hundred on it
i’m mad as h_ll, we made the news, we need another stolie
these n_ggas soulja boys, i don’t crank that
you got a big draco in my hood, i might just take that
man, these n_ggas lil bow wow, they be big cappin’
how i be hidin’? every day i be in big traffic with mag on me
n_ggas out here broke as h_ll, already they just has_beens
i’m already on the next wave, you can come and get a splash from me
wasn’t goin’ to school unless i had some sh_t like my dad money
stash money, cash money, juvenile
my n_ggas stupid wild, we ride around, two hundred rounds
in the hood like tommy be with jerry, don’t bring no rats around
man, you ran, right? you really ain’t got your gun, brody, pat ’em down
man, you can’t come around no more, we already gunned you down
[chorus: glockboyz teejaee]
remember gucci dropped that bird flu in 2007
before i kept a gun and could lose my life any second
probably way better than jail, but free my n_ggas out of heaven
i tap bro like, “press record”, and i start preachin’ like the reverend
i know the good die young, i don’t know what roddy was talkin’ ’bout
with a fifty round they shot my n_gga at his mama house
seven days straight, but it wasn’t sh_t for us to cry about
ridin’ around the city like we was tryna buy a house

[verse 2: sk!lla baby]
bird flu, what that mean, bricks in the air?
next season mike amiri on, these b_tches rare
i got ten times what i paid stuffed in every pair
drum kit on my sticks, i don’t like the snare
i get a n_gga pressed like a b_tton
i got power, i can turn him to a ghost, that ain’t nothin’
i’ll beat a n_gga ass for real, scr_ppin’ with my cousin
and they always pass me the strap, ’cause i’m bustin’
rob his ass? hm, nah, drop his ass
ice on, stick on me, slidin’ in a hockey mask
he don’t wanna die, how many times i gotta pop his ass?
take off on a opp, jimmy neutron, gotta blast (ha)
these hoes, hm, do what we say
teejaee got a bucket, i wish i could see the replay
i like the opps music, i don’t say sh_t to the dj
my shooter come from down south, bowls come from la (mm)
rucci kicks on the whip, where the valet?
we get frontends and backends and back pay
got the hoes in, all of my friends in, the straps in
[?][2:25], i gotta put the sh_t on pause when the birds fly in (huh?)

- glockboyz teejaee

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