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Ja Morant
par
Montana of 300
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Letra
You bout' to get off like it's next shift Whole lotta clips like on Netflix You ain't cutthroat get ya neck slit Keep a 30. for who don't respect it You gone see these come out at you ejected Shoot with both hands I think i'm ambidextrous Better break up the block like it's Tetris You see holes in them squares like it's Chex Mix Struggle too much but the school lunch was the closest thing we had to breakfast Used to waste my money on a fresh fit No-one told me about making investments But now I get that check no inspection So I drip in whatever i'm dressed in No more selling wood came from out of the hood but now i'm living good like the Fresh Prince My pockets fatter than Precious Can't let these labels finesse this I got my racks up like a breast lift Whole family fly like the Jetson's I don't dine with the devil and won't sell my soul, so you won't find my name on that guest list I thank God for this brain I was blessed with Niggas know not to ever contest this I'm hip-hop's Allah no-one is better than moi, I deserve an award for the best kiss Realest nigga your bitch ever slept with Shawty say I got the best dick Her head of the chain every time we link up she give me that throat like a necklace This is facts for these fools, I don't rap to be cool, every bar, every word, every breath mint All these lil niggas know i'm the man Picture me and your momma no sonogram Play my music in private but when they get around they homies they act like they not a fan Kill a remix, my haters like "not again" I'm known to snap nigga lobster hands You better take heat imma honest man Two guns in my hand like when [?] Dumpin' the killer finger on the trigger in case these lil' niggas get outta hand Better shut the fuck up or get wet the fuck up, paramedics gon' think I killed Aquaman Niggas know how I roll, I ain't poppin' xans Niggas know all my steppers know how to dance We came from the slums, if you aim then you done, sticks came with a drum but we not a band Laid him down with the heat like he tryna' tan Then go ball on them niggas like Ja Morant I'm Mr Clean with that mop in hand These niggas bitches, Juwanna Mann Promise you gon' get sent to the promise land Once I get to cookin' em', pots and pans House full of opps gettin' suits and ties Bodies sleepin' in style, no pyjama jam When it come to this rapping, i'm Einstein Im Tom Brady mixed up with primetime Let it slide or just slide, it's a fine line Bitch gon' think i'm to busy to find time Go tell all your niggas to pour up some liquor because you won't be ageing like fine wine Bitch imma murder behind mine Shoot you straight in your shit like a linedrive Fifty head shots, got his dreads shakin', man it look like he listening to Crime Mob You see hoes on his face like he [?] R.I.P all down his timeline Got his ass shot like Kay Michelle Ain't no macaroni, had him tastin' shells Got some shooters with me and they high as fuck, they got sticks and stones like Dave Chappelle We takin' over, they taking L's, they gone show you love when the hatin' fails Never shake they hand when they fake as hell, let the devil freeze, Cold day in hell Let the devil freeze, cold day in hell
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