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4 Seasons
by
Burna Bandz
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Lyrics
You know the grind, you can't cheat it That's why I trap for four seasons Demons in the Demon Glock-19 leave you leakin' All this ice on me but I ain't freezin' Yeah I'ma let 'em have it Shooters matchin' Gucci bandanas F**k around and do it on the camera Like, look at all these bands I done ran up Made the trap snow like Santa Even when I'm leanin' on the Scanna n***a This a Trackhawk, not no Camaro (SRT) She say Burna I ain't tryna share you F**k her friend now she say I'm a player Ballin' hard, some' like Tatum All these extended magazinеs, I ain't talkin' bout the Fader Trappin' out the buildin' and I'm sеrvin' all the neighbors And you know by any means, man, I gotta get this paper Bad b*t*h came through slayin' so you know I had to slay her She ain't suckin' d**k then I'll holla at you later Don't come to my block, them youngins givin' out tapers Got 50 bands just to ice out the [?] Watchin' ozzies diamonds hit like Joe Frazier We made em viral, put 'em on the front page, yeah Man, boy, uh Put you on the news I can't lie lil' bro, can't even share a deuce Got some top shop for you, it'll take a two Got this hotrod for you, better be breakin' news N***as snooze, play the fool, knock him out his shoes This sh*t brazy how I turn all of the greater blues My shoelaces say "SHOELACES," this Off-White boo It's kinda brazy c'ause my bag kinda off-white too We don't play it by the rules, n***a, we gon make 'em, we gon break 'em Hit him, shake him, right now they impatient N***as talk sh*t, that's the type of sh*t that turn me up and get 'em offed quick Gotta chill down on em Percs, they be havin' me nauseous I'm the sh*t, how the f**k this AR grow some t**s? Send a blitz Feds tryna sneak a picture so I'm fresh as sh*t I can buy a n***a bag and I can buy his b*t*h I can buy a n***a bag and I can buy his b*t*h I can buy a n***a top and I can buy a brick Rolls-Royce Cullinan, five-percent tint Like Donatello, my young n***as play with sticks turn his a** fifth Money on your head, you know we gon bring that cash in Racks in, she gon' shake that a** for that backend All these Borden's plastic, elastic, can't fit Bando boomin', can't get a chance to eat, sleep, sh*t Water on my wrist, b*t*h say it get her seasick Crodie finger itch, he don't really need a reason We deep in the club and you know we brought the heat in And It's in his sleeve just in case these n***as schemin' I got on Palm Angels but I'm hoppin' in the demon
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