Correction Paroles Beatbox Remix par Gutta100

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Paroles

Gutta100, ayy
Let's go

They wanna see me slip, mm, I gotta keep me a blick
Run down, I come off the hip
Didn't think twice, shoot up the clip
I'm in love with the bread, not a b*t*h
I'ma trap 'til I'm dead or I'm rich
All that cap, now your dawg in a ditch
I'm the sh*t, dropped a bands on some kicks
I was just locked up eatin' grits
Now I'm ridin' in a foreign, ducked off behind [?]
I was just down bad on my d**k
Now I pop out with twenty bands like it ain't sh*t
Stop callin' your girl 'cause she eatin' my kids
If I robbed you, get it back [?] what it is
My dawg just spun the band, he wan' spin again
He finna mary-go they block 'til they dead
Like a pedophile, I got my c*ck out
Boy told me, "Stay off the block 'cause the cops out"
On my way to the top, no, I cannot stop now
If the opps outsidе, you know I'ma pop out
Pull up with .40's and .30's and TEC's
Wherever wе catch you, we gon' leave a mess
Drop five on your head and my dawg in your chest
I'm rollin' your homie, he smokin' the best
I'm still in the trap and we servin' that hard
He say that he 'bout it, I'm pullin' his card
b*t*h, you already know I keep a stick
If you run down on me, then you won't see tomorrow
I keep that b*t*h on my lap, I am not Rick Ross
It is not in the trunk of my car
Why would I keep it there? That's too far
Tryna run down, I send shots like a bar
I gave y'all enough time to drop now, it's over
I mix the [?] with soda
I poured a deuce up in my soda, got me leanin' over
Please don't trust me, I might sneak ya, yeah, b*t*h, I'm a vulture
Your girl said she wanna f**k, I told her come bend over
Right pocket got the strap, left pocket bands in it
Plug actin' funny, I ain't wanna rob, I let my mans hit 'em
That boy the broke plus he a clown, can't even stand with 'em
If you my dawg and the opps pull up, then I'ma blam with 'em
They say DaBaby remixed this song the hardest, well like a Pamper, boy, I'm on your ass
I remember back in school, I was cuttin' class just to go and sell me a slab
I had a teacher that thought I was cute and she made sure I passed every time I did bad
Yeah, that b*t*h bad, but when she take off all her makeup, I don't even think that she bad
I'm up right now, f**k next, b*t*h, I'm steppin' on necks
It's my turn to go flex, told the label they need to cut checks
If we send shots, we hittin' noggins, pu**y don't need no vests
Now this sh*t a challenge, in middle school I used to beatbox my chest

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