CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles : Cream Of The Crop

Hit that bitch, I'm a boss
Ain't got time for no thot
Bitch I live like Rick Ross
Get the back, connect the dots
Never let a nigga cross, get the cream of the crop
Bitch I feel like Ty Lawson and you know I'ma shoot my shot (bitch)

Dammit she ugly and look like a dyke
Pull up my body, she forward [?]
These niggas can't even rap took a height
I murder shit and I don't say goodbye
f*ck all your hatin', my hands to the sky
Want me to fall but too bad I can fly
I might break a discuss and my beat took you high
But it hit to your gallera, eat it like pie

I'm a pilot in a cockpit when I spit these moshpits
Cooked out her nauseous, told her drink with caution
Nigga you is not dis', cook you like some biscuit
Nigga I be walkin', all I know is foreign shit

I top flouring with my current
I'm a extra cool
I got truth, not in mood, thought I'll let you know
Catch you smilin' in my face but want extra smoke
I break rules, make calls, shoutout Mexico
Tell that bitch, drink this water, f*ck with no sorrow
Drink it out the bottle while the boys be your army
Strapped up in garments, Ready to harm shit
Niggas so harmless, I stay on my own shit

I got image on display
I'm a monster out of cage
Hit your motherf*cking face
Bitch I feel like Johnny Cage
Leave you shredded in a lake
p*ssyboy don't wanna fade
Let my power penetrate to his mothef*cking face