CORRECTAR LA LETRA
Letra : Warm Up
It's Chaabian Boyz 3, one and two was a warm-up
Two nights in the booth, microphone slaughter
Tryna bring it back like I'm cooking crack
You better wear gloves when you pull it out the water
I get teary-eyed when I think about my daughter
She tries to switch the FaceTime any time I call her
I can't even answer cause I'm still in the trap
Every time I make it out it keeps pulling me back
See it's easy to die but it's hard to live
One trigger, ten pellets in your cartilage
My cat nearly died from a half a jib
Snow kicked him in the face like Karate Kid
I'm blowing money fast, I'm B.M.F
War ready, couldn't anybody be a threat
My young G pull up on a BMX
And he makes the gun bark like DMX
Straight Dixy, no Dorchester
They never took me in when I sought shelter
Start getting money, watch these whores fester
Somebody give that b*t*h a raw tester
We're cooking up crack, not gammon
I've got magic on my carpet like Aladdin
We bag bricks into Z's then we slang 'em
In the T-house, we've got more scales than the dragon
And we're getting money strictly
So much cocaine spinning I feel sickly
I'll leave your pickney with a ripped sleeve
b*t*h please, I'll push your wig back like a sh*t weave
Big .45 when we're sliding, we're riding
Real bad boys move in silence
And that pu**y still hiding
I'll slap it on his girl like domestic violence
Two nights in the booth, microphone slaughter
Tryna bring it back like I'm cooking crack
You better wear gloves when you pull it out the water
I get teary-eyed when I think about my daughter
She tries to switch the FaceTime any time I call her
I can't even answer cause I'm still in the trap
Every time I make it out it keeps pulling me back
See it's easy to die but it's hard to live
One trigger, ten pellets in your cartilage
My cat nearly died from a half a jib
Snow kicked him in the face like Karate Kid
I'm blowing money fast, I'm B.M.F
War ready, couldn't anybody be a threat
My young G pull up on a BMX
And he makes the gun bark like DMX
Straight Dixy, no Dorchester
They never took me in when I sought shelter
Start getting money, watch these whores fester
Somebody give that b*t*h a raw tester
We're cooking up crack, not gammon
I've got magic on my carpet like Aladdin
We bag bricks into Z's then we slang 'em
In the T-house, we've got more scales than the dragon
And we're getting money strictly
So much cocaine spinning I feel sickly
I'll leave your pickney with a ripped sleeve
b*t*h please, I'll push your wig back like a sh*t weave
Big .45 when we're sliding, we're riding
Real bad boys move in silence
And that pu**y still hiding
I'll slap it on his girl like domestic violence
