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MISS THE RAGE Remix
par
XANAKIN SKYWOK
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Letra
Just like this sh*t Let's f**k this sh*t Baby, blow my brains out Baby, blow my- slatt! Can't feel a damn thing (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing no more (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing no more Sip, sip, sip, sip, sip sippin' on the spot Yeah, pour it to the top (Codeine!) Yeah, bad b*t*h on my c*ck Counting money, never stop, yeah Baby, blow my- slatt! Can't feel a damn thing (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing no more (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing (Slatt) N****s on they f**k sh*t, let 'em drum hit Bussin', I-I ain't never love a b*t*h, so f**k this It's just more than that, you two been playing to rob, but don't cliff You a dumb sh*t, and you b*t*h be done, but don't click Cop the Louie bags, hold but forty, crispy blues, rockin' on Hit your blockin' on, leave your iron fade, prog it up N****s I put on, but I know she really talking on Smoke a lot of woods, take your b*t*h, milly-rockin' her We blowing brains out, you know Oh, cool b*t*h, get that out the road Kn-Knocking up, don't want me stick now she hopping blunts Pop xans, got cold, I don't feel no love Automatic with my shooters, wе've just counted up Two-two, I'm running shots like I'm coming up Miss mе, I'm way too fast, that sh*t kinda suck Cutthroat, we taking chains, yeah, we choppin' up Co-Cool wrists, dead eyes be dancing like I'm outta though Cat sauce on the bit, told that Post Malone Cut them b*t*h that I don't know, I pop them hitters like Chancellor Pop that pu**y, we nacking up, hop it in these and light it up In-In-In-In these days are done I'd drive a drop top, we acrobat Porsche Carrera, we called it up Knocking up, we skurting low We blowing brains out, oh Slatt! Can't feel a damn thing (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing no more (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing (Yeah, yeah) (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing (Yeah, yeah) Glo-glo-glocky in my pocket, test me, I'm gon' f**king pop it Shooting with that pocket rocket, don't play with me, trying to stop it F**k up on this b*t*h, they can't b*t*h this down (down) They can't b*t*h this down (down), they can't b*t*h this down, down, down Throw it up, up, up, Audi She gon' suck, suck, suck, suck, suckety (Bam) We-We gon' take his motherf**king chain (Skrrrrt) I-I-I-I-I don't give a f**k about a thing Effin' on me, I'm gon' f**king aim Hollow tips b*t*h they full of blanks I can't f**k with shorty cause she lame (Lame) Fevies in here bustin' out your brain (Brain) I can keep on playing all these games (Games) I can keep on slaying all these gangs (Gang, gang) Can't feel a damn thing (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing no more (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing (Slatt) Can't feel a damn thing no more (Slatt) Sippin' on the spot Yeah, pour it to the top
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