Correction Paroles Oh Lord par YFN Lucci

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Paroles

Yeah, trappin' like the Carter
Yeah

Double MG, we gon' crush y'all
If it's f**k me, then it's f**k y'all
n***as, they don't want war
Spent a hundred on my Patek, took them cuffs off
Totin' automatics, this the sh*t we get a rush off
All this rose gold look like duck sauce
In the Maybach with a young broad
Why the f**k would I give a f**k for
We don't lose sleep 'bout a f**k boy
Sendin' hits like a drug lord, Pablo
Dog food like Rylo
If they all move, then they die slow, pronto
Mixin' that Gucci, that Louis, that Yves Saint Laurent with that new Milano
Feelin' that sh*t that I ride for
Pop a wheelie when we see the 5-O
Who gon' motivate n***as if I go? Namе one
At the clear port, whеre you can't come
Eatin' finger lickin' on an G5, breath stank with the A1
When it come to rappers, I don't be with n***as
I'm still mobbin' on 'em with my day ones
Lil' shawty tried to play the kid but I'm Jay Sean
Handle that rod like it's M1, talkin' hot sauce
When it pop off with my Glock off
And the Wraith here from a pop-star
Man, I'm livin' a life n***as would die for
This that young n***a talk out the dealership
When you killin' sh*t, on some winnin' sh*t
At the VMAs with the .30 on me
In the front row and we with the sh*t
Heard these f**k-n***as had the free smoke
When we run into 'em, we gon' kill and sh*t
Talkin' really quick, keep the strap on me like a n***a's b*t*h

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