Paroles Tuesdays And Thursdays par Chetta

Dirty vanz
Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
Burning up im hot boy
Test me you should not boy
Flexing you should stop boy
I know what you not boy
Strapped out in the tonka toy
Choppa make alot a noice, i plead the fift then murk your boys
The hearts field up, but you can't join
Its the grip taste like a quater of keef
Serve you in a first degree
Hollows hot miami heat
Catch you slipping, i can garantee
That you gonna have to hear of me
You won't get this work from me
I promise this ain't what you need
Shawty lay off on the back seat
Run up in some back cleatz, snobs up like a track meat
Tecs sounds like some advanced beat
Clear the streets like some vaccine
Love the look on white sheets
Now double back on crime scenes
Ain't no games b*t*h we play for keeps
Street sweepers some f**king clean
Magazine no limousine
Fourty with the diamond beam
Fill em up like canteens
b*t*h you know whats up with me
I told you to dont f**k with me
Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at yo' skull!
Dirty Vans