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lil wingstop - double the smoke كلمات أغنية

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[intro]
(ayy, turn that b_tch up, chase)
(yeah, yeah, yeah… woo)

[chorus]
they put a bag on my head, tell ’em make it ten racks, i’ma triple that sh_t (triple it up)
pulled up in all black, with the .40 on my lap, i’m done talkin’ that sh_t (f_ck talkin’)
p_ssy_ass opps keep runnin’ they mouth, but they bleed just like i do, b_tch (bleed out)
and i smashed your lil’ hoe last week, she blowin’ my phone, i ain’t wifein’ that b_tch (nah, f_ck no)

[verse 1]
got fifty in the drum, hundred more in the trunk, lil’ b_tch, i’m on go (on go)
they was cappin’ online ’til i popped up outside, now they hidin’ they bros (where y’all at?)
man, f_ck all that peace talk, i’m lettin’ these hollow tips tear through your clothes (boom_boom)
if you lovе that b_tch, better keep her away ’causе she fiendin’ for nose (sniff_sniff)
i been postin’ on the block all night, in the cold with the gang, no sleep (no sleep)
got a stick so big, when i fire that b_tch, gotta brace both feet (hold it)
all these internet thugs keep postin’ my name but won’t see the same street (p_ssy)
i done caught his ass slippin’ with a half tank, put a hole in his jeep (skrrt_skrrt)

[chorus]
they put a bag on my head, tell ’em make it ten racks, i’ma triple that sh_t (triple it up)
pulled up in all black, with the .40 on my lap, i’m done talkin’ that sh_t (f_ck talkin’)
p_ssy_ass opps keep runnin’ they mouth, but they bleed just like i do, b_tch (bleed out)
and i smashed your lil’ hoe last week, she blowin’ my phone, i ain’t wifein’ that b_tch (nah, f_ck no)
[verse 2]
big smoke, big pole, all gas, no brakes, i ain’t lettin’ up (never)
two glocks in the front, sk in the back, who the f_ck want what? (who want it?)
we was swervin’ through lanes, seen a opp in the cut, had to light sh_t up (blah_blah_blah)
he was talkin’ online, now he prayin’ to god that the shots don’t touch (p_ssy)
i don’t argue with lames, i just up that flame, make the block go mute (boom)
hundred bands on my neck, vvs in my t__th, every diamond’s the proof (ice)
your b_tch came through, gave brain so long, had to call her a sleuth (godd_mn)
now she postin’ my chain on the gram, talkin’ ’bout she my boo (b_tch, please)

[chorus]
they put a bag on my head, tell ’em make it ten racks, i’ma triple that sh_t (triple it up)
pulled up in all black, with the .40 on my lap, i’m done talkin’ that sh_t (f_ck talkin’)
p_ssy_ass opps keep runnin’ they mouth, but they bleed just like i do, b_tch (bleed out)
and i smashed your lil’ hoe last week, she blowin’ my phone, i ain’t wifein’ that b_tch (nah, f_ck no)

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