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Am I Wrong
por
KrispyLife Kidd
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KrispyLife, know what the f**k going on Iced Up Records b*t*h When he with me, ain't nobody gon' touch face Stupid Dog, I ain't gon' lie this b*t*h hard When he with me, ain't nobody gon' touch face You could never up the score, 'cause all you do is pump-fake Hunnid' feet stomped dawg, now he got a scuffed face Young boy caught a body and he beat it, that's a luck case Kill you and yo' siblings, get your brother hit Chop speak real choppy, it got a stutter clip 7.62s hit anything on some horny sh*t Ain't nobody trust you with the bag, all you do is fumble sh*t Prepared for everything, never stress, I know it come with this N***as plottin', I got guap to stop it, youngin's runnin' blicks N***as fakе, acting like it's problems, really want a pic I got monstеrs, pop out, you a goner, they don't count attempts Money counter gem, all these hunnid's b*t*h MTV peep how I'm livin', I ain't stuntin' b*t*h Rap money, trap money, baby throw it back for me Lil' boy, you should work for Lids, too much cap for me See, I don't know if I'm wrong or I'm not Am I wrong for tryna rap, or am I wrong for hittin' the block? Am I wrong for knowing this b*t*h a thot and still get the top? Like yo' label don't f**k wit' you, I'll get you dropped Am I wrong, for wanting to see my n***as ball? Am I wrong for hittin' this b*t*h, and never ever call? I guess I'm wrong 'cause I'm tired and I ain't answering my phone Yeah it's wrong, you preach real sh*t but don't the code Am I wrong, for keepin' it too trill in my songs? You know you wrong, cappin' like you on hoes but you broke Baby go and wanna give me throat before I even spoke Hit the club feelin' like I'm soda, ran in doing the most Winter coat, Moncler? No, but take a lil' bro Minnesota, nine over more, I swear he paid the most No more humble, flexin' on the 'Gram, they hate that I'm the GOAT Crib bigger than the school, I came from sleepin' on the floor I hit the b*t*h with the Perc' d**k, she begging for some more I only sell verses but the fiends begging for some dope Left pocket full of green sh*t, I'm talking artichokes Say the wrong thing on the mic, and that'll get an artist choked Ayy the plug came, I darted on it Thirty inch Forgiato rims with the Harley on it I could see this n***as hoes without the Carti's on Police kick the door, jump out the house like Playboi Carti on it
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