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sox feet - karma ft. lyrics
[verse 1]
mary jane in my pocket n-gga
im like rick james in that mo’ f-cka
with a jab thot, she the blunt roller
snow bunny, she the c-m dumpster
gotta semi-auto named nina, n-gga
blunt and kush called keisha, n-gga
christine be the beamer n-gga
and the bag of dope could od a n-gga
like, money i’m buggin i think that im trippin
i feel like they tappin my phone and they listen
to everything said and they waiting to get me
and n-gga im flippin
cus selling that dope is how i make a living
break the sh-t down, and i go and i get it
give it to fiend cus they lovin the feelin
and i want the money, and i want a million
and i be like d-mn, shorty be f-ckin with me i’m the man
n-gga im rollin with mary and anne
boy i be poppin like plenty of xan
plenty of xan, look
i be all on my sh-t shorty
rolling round in that white porsche
she wanna f-ck wit that dope dealer
she take a ride on my white horse
i got bobby daughter on molly water
too short like i’m 5’4
spin and roll when i’m lifting off and i’m pulling out in that side door
i say shorty one of my side wh0r-s, told her i got like 9 more
she told me that its okay, as long as i make time for her
i gotta rollie all on my wrist bruh
toting one till i lift up
chilling right in my lambo
and i belch, be on my 5th blunt
i got sour d, i got sour d
hit me up for that piff bruh
sip baliza while i’m bagging yay
and i want this safe for my kid bruh
like, money always on the funny man
wonder in the weed and the ganja
life is a b-tch, best friend karma
two shots hit em and the kid be the goner
for real i starve, k!ll revolver
bullets shoot off, so i dissolve em
man wanna tote imma man when the farmer
the k!ll got n-ggas, it’ll be my honor
{verse 2}
drive solo, i’m the only one
but i’m han solo with the homie gun
and if i do a bid then i might miss the b-tch
but through the window she could blow me one
got a couple of n-ggas that owe me one
did me my math, he the police son
boy, they need to stop jacking son
what he sipping? prolly jack or som
gettin to it, gucci bags and rollies
walk into the jewelry store, they know me
n-ggas talking like they real, they phony
never let a sparkler hide the chrome piece
surgeon baby mother ran away
probably never had a decent dome piece
but she wanna f-ck with me today
imma hit and p-ss her to the homies
and i been wishing on a m-th-f-cking star
here we are
made it out the gutter, thank you god
i was poor, drinking hennessey
yeah, f-cking up my memory
now i just wanna f-ck around and ball
coming back to k!ll em the ammunition
no one was feeling em, so tell em duck muhf-cka
i’m coming back with a ruckus, lace em with gray chuckas
crackin all them muhf-ckas that was talkin like they the king
riding round the city in a whip so clean
living out a motherf-cking dream, and i been this
witness this and dance you can spin this
live it motherf-cker, time to get this
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