CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles : 3 Headed Goat

(Aviator)

These ain't no Guess jeans
I dropped out of school, I'm still good at math, but, n*gga, don't test me
I played to the left, they went to the right, they tried to finesse me
Still riding 'round with that blicky, I hope they don't catch me
Police had raided our spot, so we went to the next street
Play like I'm dumb, as soon as it pop, I'm goin' retarded
He say I'm hard and he say I'm garbage, I'm rich regardless
We in Miami in the middle of the winter, and we on them jet skis
If we in Atlanta, I'm runnin' the 'Cat and I'm workin' the red key

I cannot mention my homies inside of my song 'cause I know they be trappin' a lot
I can't keep takin' these pills, when I'm in the trenches, they say I be cappin' a lot
I know a n*gga who say he got rich off the dope, but I know he be actin' a lot
I know some n*ggas who said that they took down the city, but n*ggas be lackin' a lot
Yeah
That sh*t was awful, n*gga had that dog food
That day they shot you, I slid on a Mongoose
You cannot come back around me, you turned your back on me, I cannot forget
The police was lyin', they say that they caught you, but n*gga, they made you admit
Your name was found, you put in that work, they took your stick, you a b*tch
f*ck my opps, they be on my di*k, they all be mad we rich (Turn up)

Only twenty-five, livin' like a boss, ridin' 'round with a chauffeur
I don't sell drugs, still be paranoid, keep lookin' over my shoulder
n*ggas lyin' like I'm stealin' swag, boy, that's my sh*t like I wrote it

Uh
These rappers really nice as hell
I'm a different n*gga when I'm p*ssed off
Man, he say he gon' press up on who?
I'ma get the steel like I'm Chris Paul
Back to back suburbans, I'm a big dawg
I was in the slums servin' Fentanyl
Zombieland, junkies havin' withdrawals
I been gettin' to it, lotta missed calls
Turn it off, what the f*ck is he talking 'bout?
I should slap you for sayin' he hot as me
I don't know who could f*ck with me honestly
They know I'm the man, so they watchin' me
Different color bands like Monopoly
Man, he must not be usin' his head
If he thinkin' I don't keep a Glock with me
That's like suicide if you play with us
Got a better chance at the lottery
Call an ambulance when that chopper sweep
Make the crowd dance, choreography
Once I got a plan, ain't no stoppin' me
Three-car garage, million-dollar crib
With a foreign b*tch ridin' on top of me
Lot of people done said I wouldn't be sh*t
Well, I guess they owe me an apology

These ain't no Guess jeans
I dropped out of school, I'm still good at math, but, n*gga, don't test me
I played to the left, they went to the right, they tried to finesse me
Still riding 'round with that blicky, I hope they don't catch me
Police had raided our spot, so we went to the next street
Play like I'm dumb, as soon as it pop, I'm goin' retarded
He say I'm hard and he say I'm garbage, I'm rich regardless
We in Miami in the middle of the winter, and we on them jet skis
If we in Atlanta, I'm runnin' the 'Cat and I'm workin' the red key