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zone 2 - [s.1 e.4] zone 2 mazza freestyle lyrics
big bro got chinged little bro got chinged
little cuz 2 dats a hatrick loosescrew got
chinged up x2 and dats knock 2
why are u still rapping i ain’t no
4’s on a big mans job back my ting
and dey vanish don’t send little man
too do a big mans job back my ting
and dey vanish dis girl way to rude
shes doin up nudes dis 1s comin like
lamen who’s on who cool widda yute
dats what i call collateral damage dem
amn dwarfs shooting at doors dey sky
dere skengs in action im like dese man
dont want action yo v, let’s suit and move
got me, v, t in the ride
man’s go s o too
man jumped out the whizz and crashed it
v told me i could lean and shoot
trizz told me he’s riding, no sliding, man’s riding two
like
you spent six on your vvs
a dun run through two shot guns
i’m tryna put him down on his face
i ain’t tryna see him in the wrong 1 nah
man roll on your whole estate
real talk who wants some
( grrat bap )
now your broski’s got one
i let it brr brr
dudumdudum
opp thotty on me, man’s drilling it
plus my flows are infinite
i got a brown skin ting from the zones
i got a ting round gillingham
[?]house, man’s dishing it
‘bout sumner road you’re billing it
would have lost that back strap, ah jesus oh lord
man talk ‘pon the internet
bro’s tryna drop me a ten
like roll up ments, roll up and finish them
jumped on…by clapham
feel asleep by twickenham
and i told you when i roll through
i ain’t on missing them
yeah we mad, yeah we crazy
big 44s with no safety
been moving skets real lately
he has moves like he’s got rabies
yeah we mad,yeah we crazy
do a ping to my wrist he’s gone lazy
if it’s not bagel then it’s tasty
you already got dipped by katie
yeah we crazy and we mad
i want guns from baghdad
we’re gonna drop ams i’m glad
if it ain’t us then who’s bad
it gets bl–dy like a girl’s pad
how many dippers had man had
how many cases had gone jake’s add
get him and his conrads
tell the kwengface “get the mop” but he already dropped that juice
bang at his head, hole three blood, touches the wall and the roof
i never took lies to the track, tell me when have i lied in the booth
your toss scored the game, but i don’t rate cuz that n-gga never tell the truth
i don’t give a toss, ching him up, let him see my pom poms
bare back it no condoms
get his chest nar the long johns
pet now where i come from
i want all i don’t want some
push shanks through cotton’s
f-ck rans i’ll serve you bon-bons
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