Correction Paroles Brad Pitt par RMC Mike

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Paroles

(Primo, turn this sh*t up)
(Primo Beats on the track)
B*t*h
Ghetto Boyz sh*t, n***a

Hold on, Primo, let me roll a 'Wood
2020 widebody, so you know my motor good
I just sold some bullsh*t weed, but the odor good
I gotta hold the city down, b*t*h, you know what's good
Free Ri', he'll be back quick
Junkies in the studio smokin' hard, look like Brad Pitt
I ain't gotta let off thirty shots, boy, I'm accurate
Went down to the O and made a hundred out of Akron
All facts, b*t*h, you know I'm turnt right now
I just stuffed a zip in the blunt, I'm burnt right now
B*t*h ain't wanna give that pu**y up, she hurt right now
Three hundred in cash off of rap I earned right now
Sh*t, I'm tryna touch a milli'
B*t*h pulled up with big breasts, I'm finna f**k a t**ty
I remember days when I wish I could've touched a fifty
I'm good, but I'm back aggravated when my cup is empty
Yeah, I'm a lean-head
"If you drink me, I'ma knock you out," that's what the green said
So I'm better off drinkin' on some purple sh*t
I ain't ask for no handout, boy, I worked for this
Okay, the light turnin' yellow, n***a, press the gas
Put some baby oil on my Glock and it's ejectin' fast
Come here, b*t*h, I'm tryna f**k on you with your naked a**
I know her head grade A, she the next to pa**
I hit her with my leg up, now her frontal off
I swear I can write a book about how to become a boss
I'm on the wintertime grind, took the summer off
Every other night, I gotta hit somethin' new, but I'm comin' raw
Fat, nasty n***a, I upgraded on my grind, now the cash is bigger
'Za 'bows in for the low, but I'ma tax a n***a
Walk around with two guns on me, ready to whack a n***a
That's my caption, n***a
Picture me rollin' through your hood with a hundred on
I popped a Perc' before we started f**kin', she keep c*mmin' on me
Ghetto Boy sh*t, we the one and only
I miss shootin' out to the ten with an onion on me
That's a one-day trip
Take his a** to church on some Sunday sh*t
Fresher than a preacher, on some runway sh*t
He want a zip of soft, I sold his a** cake mix
6 n***a f**kin' with the 5, on my ape sh*t
If they get you in that room, boy, you better not say sh*t
Sh*t, one wrong word'll get a n***a face lift
I'm a certified Ghetto Boy, on my Drake sh*t
I'll drive that sh*t myself, n***a, f**k a Greyhound
N***a said it's in the air, I made a pu**y lay it down
N***a, I been gettin' money since the Cookie came around
N***a pulled up with ten bands just to book me and I smiled
Sh*t
(Primo, turn this sh*t up)
(Primo Beats on the track)

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