Corrección Letra Half-Blood Prince par BabyTron

Regreso

Letra

[Intro]
Ooh Shit, that’s a Danny G beat

[Verse]
Me and gang flying ‘round with sticks like we playing Quidditch
Crazy it don’t cost a damn thing for us to pay a visit
Back to back to back shots, T-Mac, it won’t take a minute
VIP at LV, I ain’t even wait a minute
Working magic with these Visas, would’ve thought I cast a spell
Five figures, guarantee my hitman send his ass to Hell
Caught yo mans digging in my tray blowing ashy tails
Why yo mans sitting up in jail? Someone grab his bail
Slytherin, the Sorting Hat sense the snake in yo blood
Put that money down, boy, I go and play with a dub
We ain’t come to play, paid extra K’s in the club
OVO, let it rock and roll, Drac’ with the drum
Off-White on a off night, this the boss life
Let him blitz left, QB, I’ma toss right
Yo bitch easy, first night, was out her drawers twice
Dog life, hellhounds ‘round me and they all bite
Star player, finna lead my team to victory
Unky never stepping out the kitchen ‘cause his wrist too sweet
Scooby-Doo, hopping out the van, gon’ leave a mystery
Should’ve went to Hogwarts, I’m doing wizardry
Alright, here, bro, hold the torch
Black Dior trench coat, look like Voldemort
How you saying I ain’t balling? You don’t even know the sport
Back-shh season, leave his house with a open door
7.62s’ll fuck around and slay a dragon
I’m just waking up, I’m Mr. Make-It-Happen
You in the jungle acting tough? You just fake adapting
Walking in the stu’ high as hell, finna make some captions
Riding out in Cali, tinted sprinter, on our tourist shit
Thinking that yo fit drippy? I got newer kicks
Hit yo bitch early, hit the stu’ from like two to six
Bro Sub-Zero, drop the buffs with the bluest tint
Sliding with a 201, jam the chip then dip
Lil’ bitch need a gold medal, how she hit the splits
Punch God, fucked the site up till they fix the glitch
Saks then Finkle back to back, gotta hit the Fifth
Alright, here we go, I’m finna take them fuckers on a chase
Zaza Man, bought a P of Gushers for the taste
Three five of Runtz, bitch, I’m blowing thunder to the face
I don’t love shit about that bitch other than the face
Bin Reaper on my MacBook, I’m yo vendor’s vendor
Boy, you on the wrong track, you need to get yo head together
Clutch player, boy, I play better pressured
Scam God, I’ll wear a Nike tech wherever
Riding ‘round with a Draco, Malfoy
Winning now, heard they envy me like CalBoy
Brodie off a 30, popping Percs like they Altoids
Jack Man, made a quarter ticket off a Android

[Outro]
But, you know, happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times. If one only remembers to turn on the light

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