Corrección Letra 2 Worlds Pt. 2 par Cordae

Regreso

Letra

Ohhh we had to do this sh*t to 'em again man
I need to make these n***as right
Wo (Wo)

Look! I started off, n***as hard and soft
But acting hard and raw
Sneak dissing, you retarded
Raw, they wasn't smart at all

Shoot 'em up, Then I watch 'em fall
F**k that b*t*h and kick her like a soccer ball
Pull up on her pu**y just to pop it off

Double life and a n***a been stressin'
Played your song, damn that sh*t was depressin'
N***as flexin' in studio sessions
Bad b*t*h and I swear she a blessin'
Boy I'm the man, you rap and don't got a plan
Free my little bro off the gang

You play with me, I'm let that sh*t blam
And where you stand is where you gon' land, Wow
Drop my new sh*t, its exclusive
How I do dis' they be clueless
The way I'm killing these rappers, its ruthless
But I pity the fool 'cause they stupid

N***as talk crazy, won't do sh*t (Talking stupid)
Talking that looselip, They already long as a pool stick
And we uhaul when we move sh*t

Running looselip, bro got blue tips
But be ducking n***as on some guc sh*t
Pulling f**king triggers on a nuisance
But I'm not a gangsta I be coopin'

F**k her on monday and call her a cutie
I'm f**king another b*t*h by Tuesday
No f**king, no n***a I'm toting a tooly
These b*t*hes don't mean nothing to me

Hollow thrills, I don't swallow pills, I'm bout my dolla' bills
A real n***a, cause my father real but people plot and kill
Real n***a, you should f**king know
And its double S f**king O, we'll f**k your ho
And we'll slap your bro, wow

When they see you down, they don't see the vision
Grinding hard was a sweet decision
Pocket stuffed they on Peter Griffen
Now I'm making money I complete the mission
B*t*hes used to block me, now they wanna jock me
And she give me sloppy like her teeth is missing
Bro they keep a shotty like a f**king hobby
Chop a haters body now he breathing different
Quarter back sh*t in the field due
They keep your a** down to conceal you
The killing our kids on the steel moon
They'll be busting at n***as, what will do

If bro see you up, I'm like kill who
If he point at you imma kill you
I'm out on the field and n***as be fake
And I'm paraplegic, don't feel you

N***a straight, she don't mind my posture
Eating steak, benihanas and lobster
Wish a n***a with em like Mr. Crocker
Put a fo' with a sprite of a boxer
Sippin' on lean so it f**k up my posture
While young n***as on my roster
If I ain't a chopper you gon' need a doctor
Or a breathalyser, he ain't breathing properly
I f**ked her throat, so she ain't speaking properly
If the fans come, we ain't speaking louder, Shhh, Don't say a sound
In my trap you gon' work b*t*h and don't lay around
I don't like sneak dissing and don't play around
If you got a problem won't don't you go say it now
If your plug work with us we gon' show em some love
But if he taxin' we gon' take em down

Gang (Gang, Gang, gang, gang,)
(Skrt, skrt) (Huh, Huh) (Wow, wow)

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