CORRIGER LES PAROLES
Paroles : McLovin
Pretty little, pre-
Your lie, lie
Pretty little, pre-
Your lie, lie
Pretty little, pre-
Your lie, lie
We sell dope for a motherf**king living, n***a
You feel me? F**k that rap sh*t
Pretty little, pre-
Your lie, lie (Yeah, uh, yeah)
I was just f**king them girls, I was gon' get right back
I had a line on that soft, I was gon' switch it to crack
I stuck to tires like I'm fixing a flat, swimming through racks
Cooked my first zip, lost six, brought twenty-two back
B*t*h, what you trippin' on?
Just sold a brick, still down to whip a song
I don't even f**k with the dawg, straight cutting fentanyl
She asked me if I'm f**king her friend, just know I'm hitting y'all
F**k an opp, two-fifty round drums when I give it to y'all
And it'll make The Shade Room if these bloggers knew who I'm f**king
It'll make the same news if the Feds knew who I'm plugging
You bought sixty grams off me, I probably threw in a dozen
You need a dope boy, b*t*h, f**k you gon' do with a husband?
B*t*h, I been on The Shade Room, got three baby mamas, I'm thuggin'
TMZ been at my house, taking pictures, all of a sudden
Heard the DEA, they tossing indictments, they want to cuff him
I'ma leave up out the country with fake ID like McLovin
B*t*h, what you trippin' on? Thirty-six raw, cut that with acetone
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, get hard, they hit the crack phone
(B*t*h, what you trippin' on?) Thirty-six raw, cut that with acetone
Saturday and Sunday, I only talk on the family phone (Sh*t)
These motherf**kers out here talking about, you know what I'm sayin'?
I'm tired of- I'm tired of all these n***as talking about this whole dope sh*t, the drug sh*t, n***a
N***a, I made it to the motherf**king GRAMMY's, n***a
You talking 'bout ''Sh*t, I'll show you the raw'', n***a (Yo, yo)
I treat her like coke, get her wet, then hit her with the ice
Reward a single b*t*h that's faithful to a n***a with a wife
Plug hate me like I ran off with bundles and f**ked his wife
Migo stabbed me in the eye, hit a dirty knife for the night
You ain't never been in a gang war if you don't know my life
Feds got me up on the gang board, VL for life
Big Rabbit got a package, goddamn it, I keep a Sprite
When Obama got elected, I caught a case with his wife (Yeah)
B*t*h, what you trippin' on?
They want to know how I feel about Mach workin' with West
Why would I give a f**k? I'm rich already, I wish him the best
Played the game where a brick get you death, a hit get you less
Judged for the number on your shirt, but it won't be Mitchell & Ness
You like to claim her, the truth is we shared the b*t*h, so I guess
I sent her back with some cash in her purse and d**k on her breath, yeah
I made my girl a star too from buying all that yola
Y'all ain't hear Gibbs? Y'all hoes still crying in Toyotas
B*t*h, what you trippin' on? Thirty-six raw, cut that with acetone
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, get hard, they hit the crack phone
(B*t*h, what you trippin' on?) Thirty-six raw, cut that with acetone
Saturday and Sunday, I only talk on the family phone (B*t*h, what you trippin' on?)
This for my n***a Doug
First n***a ever gave me a brick, man
How I'm gon' forget you?
That's a chance, you'll be kiddin' me, haha
Federal district attorney
BSF, n***a
Your lie, lie
Pretty little, pre-
Your lie, lie
Pretty little, pre-
Your lie, lie
We sell dope for a motherf**king living, n***a
You feel me? F**k that rap sh*t
Pretty little, pre-
Your lie, lie (Yeah, uh, yeah)
I was just f**king them girls, I was gon' get right back
I had a line on that soft, I was gon' switch it to crack
I stuck to tires like I'm fixing a flat, swimming through racks
Cooked my first zip, lost six, brought twenty-two back
B*t*h, what you trippin' on?
Just sold a brick, still down to whip a song
I don't even f**k with the dawg, straight cutting fentanyl
She asked me if I'm f**king her friend, just know I'm hitting y'all
F**k an opp, two-fifty round drums when I give it to y'all
And it'll make The Shade Room if these bloggers knew who I'm f**king
It'll make the same news if the Feds knew who I'm plugging
You bought sixty grams off me, I probably threw in a dozen
You need a dope boy, b*t*h, f**k you gon' do with a husband?
B*t*h, I been on The Shade Room, got three baby mamas, I'm thuggin'
TMZ been at my house, taking pictures, all of a sudden
Heard the DEA, they tossing indictments, they want to cuff him
I'ma leave up out the country with fake ID like McLovin
B*t*h, what you trippin' on? Thirty-six raw, cut that with acetone
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, get hard, they hit the crack phone
(B*t*h, what you trippin' on?) Thirty-six raw, cut that with acetone
Saturday and Sunday, I only talk on the family phone (Sh*t)
These motherf**kers out here talking about, you know what I'm sayin'?
I'm tired of- I'm tired of all these n***as talking about this whole dope sh*t, the drug sh*t, n***a
N***a, I made it to the motherf**king GRAMMY's, n***a
You talking 'bout ''Sh*t, I'll show you the raw'', n***a (Yo, yo)
I treat her like coke, get her wet, then hit her with the ice
Reward a single b*t*h that's faithful to a n***a with a wife
Plug hate me like I ran off with bundles and f**ked his wife
Migo stabbed me in the eye, hit a dirty knife for the night
You ain't never been in a gang war if you don't know my life
Feds got me up on the gang board, VL for life
Big Rabbit got a package, goddamn it, I keep a Sprite
When Obama got elected, I caught a case with his wife (Yeah)
B*t*h, what you trippin' on?
They want to know how I feel about Mach workin' with West
Why would I give a f**k? I'm rich already, I wish him the best
Played the game where a brick get you death, a hit get you less
Judged for the number on your shirt, but it won't be Mitchell & Ness
You like to claim her, the truth is we shared the b*t*h, so I guess
I sent her back with some cash in her purse and d**k on her breath, yeah
I made my girl a star too from buying all that yola
Y'all ain't hear Gibbs? Y'all hoes still crying in Toyotas
B*t*h, what you trippin' on? Thirty-six raw, cut that with acetone
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, get hard, they hit the crack phone
(B*t*h, what you trippin' on?) Thirty-six raw, cut that with acetone
Saturday and Sunday, I only talk on the family phone (B*t*h, what you trippin' on?)
This for my n***a Doug
First n***a ever gave me a brick, man
How I'm gon' forget you?
That's a chance, you'll be kiddin' me, haha
Federal district attorney
BSF, n***a
