waka flocka flame - warning lyrics
[intro: waka flocka flame]
dp on the beat
d-mn, son, where’d you find this?
we bustin’ bottles, we be countin’, rockin’ chains
’cause we came from sh-t, n-gg-
[chorus: waka flocka flame]
i got n-gg-s in the kitchen, i get pounds dirt cheap
i’m in new york with the plug, now we eatin’ at felipes
i know n-gg-s that got rich, now they -ss flat broke
when them good girls start strippin’, man, they -ss turn to freaks
my young n-gg-s ttg, you gon’ die if it’s beef
i don’t want no f-ckin’ peace, pour my henny, roll a leaf
i don’t wanna see no flex, b-tch, i tatted up my sleeves
i told cannon if he k!ll ’em i’ma send him three bricks
man, we love robbin’ robbers and we love extortin’ trappers
i’m a disrespectful n-gg-, you might catch me in your house
f-ckin’ your b-tch on the couch, puttin’ d-ck all in her mouth
i’m just a n-gg- from the south so you know them pistols out
you n-gg-s tuckin’ chains in, i thought y’all was some gangsters
swear i’m just a street n-gg-, somehow i got famous
rob waka flocka, b-tch, you talkin’ out your -n-s
leave you brainless, you n-gg-s lame to us
b-tches shakin’ -ss, young n-gg-s twisting fingers
[verse: comethazine]
b-tch, i came in with the chop, me and wak’, and i’m sippin’ wock
your b-tch tryna f-ck, she a dyk-, that b-tch gave me top
lamborghini murciélago, v12 skrrt off the lot
told that lil’ dumb sl-tty b-tch, take off your skirt, b-tch, keep the top
if that boy want smoke, hit where it hurt, i make his body drop
b-tch, i’m ttg, i’m trained to go, on go, i never stop
this f-ckboy a dork, a dweeb, a ho, that boy gon’ always flop
[chorus: waka flocka flame]
i got n-gg-s in the kitchen, i get pounds dirt cheap
i’m in new york with the plug, now we eatin’ at felipes
i know n-gg-s that got rich, now they -ss flat broke
when them good girls start strippin’, man, they -ss turn to freaks
my young n-gg-s ttg, you gon’ die if it’s beef
i don’t want no f-ckin’ peace, pour my henny, roll a leaf
i don’t wanna see no flex, b-tch, i tatted up my sleeves
i told cannon if he k!ll ’em i’ma send him three bricks
man, we love robbin’ robbers and we love extortin’ trappers
i’m a disrespectful n-gg-, you might catch me in your house
f-ckin’ your b-tch on the couch, puttin’ d-ck all in her mouth
i’m just a n-gg- from the south so you know them pistols out
you n-gg-s tuckin’ chains in, i thought y’all was some gangsters
swear i’m just a street n-gg-, somehow i got famous
rob waka flocka, b-tch, you talkin’ out your -n-s
leave you brainless, you n-gg-s lame to us
b-tches shakin’ -ss, young n-gg-s twisting fingers
[outro]
d-mn, son, where’d you find this?
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