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magla, lex pain & void - chrome beretta lyrics
[intro]
(av with that drip, ho)
[verse 1: leg]
lil’ boy better step up
been had the sauce, so you n_ggas better catch up
stay with the strap, yeah, we hittin’ from the chest up
six deep with the gang on the low in a tesla
all black with a chrome beretta
took his flow and i’m doin’ it better
in the cut, ain’t no matter the weather
talkin’ sh_t and i’m clutchin’ the lever
[verse 2: lex pain]
yeah, pull out the choppa, it makin’ him hiccup
i get me a shiver, she suckin’ my d_ck up
he talkin’ that sh_t but he wishin’ ran up
callin’ up leg ’cause i need that beretta (uh)
six deep, pull up with the pressure
if lil’ boy step up, he leave in a stretcher
all black with interior leather
calm down, don’t f_ck with a k!ller
[verse 3: leg]
you_you_you n_ggas is less, my n_ggas is greater
gave her the tip, lil’ shawty a waiter
ballin’ out like i play for the lakers
on a roll, b_tch, i feel like a skater
she wanted d_ck, so i told her i’d cater
had to snap, b_tch, i feel like a gator
had to snap couple rounds out the glock
run up on me and i’m airin’ the block
[verse 4: lex pain]
run up on me, you get shot in yo’ face (yeah)
draggin’ the body all over the state (yeah)
just like some alcohol, you gettin’ chased (ayy)
hop out the benz, i hop in a wraith (grra)
put on a techno beat, shawty she feelin’ me (yeah, yeah, yeah)
blowin’ her back to the beat of the bass (b_tch)
kickin’ her out, like i need sp_ce (b_tch)
after she gone, the number erased
[bridge: leg]
gang, gang, gang, gang, yeah, i’m a k!lla (k!lla)
gang, gang, gang, gang, i go gorillas (gorillas)
gang, gang, gang, gang, yeah, it’s a thrilla (thrilla)
gang, gang, gang, gang, a caterpillar
i keep the mac on me, b_tches call me steve jobs (grra)
this loud pack got me higher than them greek gods
i’m on the southside, shooters got them dead eyes
we be stackin’ bread high, we yo’ f_cking demise
[verse 5: 1nonly]
said i be riding f_ckin’ dirty, got these b_tches on my d_ck (got these b_tches on my d_ck)
what the f_ck? what the f_ck? what the f_ck it really is
they be talkin’, “1nonly, how the f_ck you get so big?” (ayy, ayy, ayy)
it’s all the money i be making, holy f_ck, i’m getting rich
let’s get it
i be in the whip dirty tinted, admit it (he’s on fire)
you be countin’ pennies, i be countin’ all these digits (ayy, ayy, ayy)
rick up on my feet, “so c_nt”, how it’s written
hold up wait a minute (ayy, ayy, ayy)
i said, “hold up wait a minute”
i’m yo’ b_tch mcm that’s why i got it on my back
i got two .45s, got two bad dimes
if you want that beef (ayy), better bring it out the back
like, holy sh_t, like, holy f_ck, i’m high as f_ck, i can’t relax
i got this money, got this money steady coming by the stack, lil’ b_tch
[verse 6: magla]
glock, a bust down
thot, she bust down
hot, i f_ck now
stop, i nut now
watch the f_ck out
knock, i’m up now
shot, the bums down
rock, i’m punk now, yeah
milly rock, shine like i’m johnny dang, dang, dang
silly watch, i don’t need a thing but a gang chain
iggy pop with the punk rock, you a d_mn lame
55, but i run a hundred on the high way
see that wocky got you loose
say it to ya face and then i say it in the booth
hey, huh, what? f_ck you b_tches, i’m the truth
b_tch, i’m getting brain from ya main baby boo (yuh, f_ck you too)
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