CORRECTAR LA LETRA
Letra : Hellkat (Instagram)
I don't see no red lights 'cause I'm always on go (Yeah)
Walk around with some dead guys, like I work at a morgue (Hey)
Walk around with my ruler like a teacher, that's for sure
LaFerrari headlights, new paint on it redder than gore
Got my bread up, I'ma eat good (Yeah)
Bring the bread back so my street good (Woah)
Too many horses in the Porsche (Woah)
When I ride with the fye, cowboy Clint Eastwood (Woah)
Your man's a f**k boy, he's a pu**y boy, I can tell that
Sticked up like I'm Donatello, where them shells at? (Uh)
Billy and Mandy what I named my pistols, thеy raise hеll, yeah
Fyе, fye, fye, whеn we slide by your house in this Hellcat (Yeah)
Heard you b*t*hin' (Yeah)
Here, let me get you a tissue (Woah)
Just like a shirt, we gon' press you (Huh)
We ain't gon' talk out our issues (Yeah)
We don't care enough to diss you (Facts)
Bullet holes, body bag, ditch you (Fye)
Extendo hang out the pistol (Fye, fye, fye, fye)
Send you to God with an early dismissal, why lie?
Bullets connect with you, just like Wi-Fi
I spy another pu**y n***a, this a drive-by
I slide with sticks out the rear windows, call it hindsight (Yeah, yeah, hindsight)
He want beef, we pull back around with like five guys (Pause)
I might just dip on my ex for O's
I might just cop an Aventador
Suicide doors on my Bentley (Whore
Walk around with some dead guys, like I work at a morgue (Hey)
Walk around with my ruler like a teacher, that's for sure
LaFerrari headlights, new paint on it redder than gore
Got my bread up, I'ma eat good (Yeah)
Bring the bread back so my street good (Woah)
Too many horses in the Porsche (Woah)
When I ride with the fye, cowboy Clint Eastwood (Woah)
Your man's a f**k boy, he's a pu**y boy, I can tell that
Sticked up like I'm Donatello, where them shells at? (Uh)
Billy and Mandy what I named my pistols, thеy raise hеll, yeah
Fyе, fye, fye, whеn we slide by your house in this Hellcat (Yeah)
Heard you b*t*hin' (Yeah)
Here, let me get you a tissue (Woah)
Just like a shirt, we gon' press you (Huh)
We ain't gon' talk out our issues (Yeah)
We don't care enough to diss you (Facts)
Bullet holes, body bag, ditch you (Fye)
Extendo hang out the pistol (Fye, fye, fye, fye)
Send you to God with an early dismissal, why lie?
Bullets connect with you, just like Wi-Fi
I spy another pu**y n***a, this a drive-by
I slide with sticks out the rear windows, call it hindsight (Yeah, yeah, hindsight)
He want beef, we pull back around with like five guys (Pause)
I might just dip on my ex for O's
I might just cop an Aventador
Suicide doors on my Bentley (Whore
