corrija a letra Letra Do It Again por Mac Miller

Retornar

Letra

Still blowin' that smoke
Ayo, Osk, you know we gotta do one for the ladies
It ain't the typical sh*t though (What?)
The one's for the ladies
Let me show 'em how we goin' through this one
(Ill Spoken, How High: The Mixtape) Check it, y'all

How the kid do, withdrew some cash, then I slid through (Cha-ching)
Lookin' for some ass fast, grab a tissue
I know this sh*t can get sticky, I ain't stuck on honey
'Cause I'm a playboy, me and shorty f**k like bunnies
I'm like, "Dammit, this chick's fly
I wanna slide through your thick thighs
Baby, is you down for the d**k-ride? (Yeah)
Well, if you are, you can hop in my car
I sweet-talk to you, baby, I don't talk to you hard
And then my eyes [?] you are who you are, so I ain't gotta tell
Have you straight screamin' out my name, sh*t gets hot as hell" (Haha)
She got a glimpse, now she beggin' for more
And I'ma give it to her 'cause I'm always ready to score (I'm ready)
It's all the sh*t you wish you had, holla at them b*t*hes there (Yeah)
I got a girl to suck my d**k like I'm a millionaire
Plus I got a couple hoes on call that go down hard
And suck my sh*t up good, don't you slow down, no
sh*t is crazy (Hahaha)
Yeah, no doubt, no doubt, cowards is lazy
f**k you think you offendin' with that sh*t?
Ayo, Mac, tell these motherf**kers to stand back
'Fore I crack they nuggets open, have blood all over the place, motherf**ker
So what you—what you wan' do?

I do my girl like some bomb
That one-hitter-quitter, then I'm gone (And I'm gone)
See, shorty lookin' right, sittin' on the couch
Then she give me brains 'til there's no feelin' in her mouth (Yeah)
pu**y like some feline, feminine cats (Uh-huh)
Need some real when you spittin' on your estrogen rap (Haha, pu**y)
See, me and Beedie ain't f**kin' with y'all (Nah)
We'd rather let these razor blades cut through our jaws
See, we run through the mall, buyin' everything in it
behind my ear, pickin' up some fine women (What it do?)
b*t*h, eat your spinach, y'all chicken like Popeye
Rotisserie, muhf**kers just not fly (Nuh-uh)
I'ma call you Ostrich, runnin' around
Forgot that hip-hop started out under the ground
Now you dumb it down for the circus runnin' ya town (What up?)
Man, I think I've just about enough from you clowns (Get the f**k out of here)
Now I'm a dog taken straight from the pound
On that Cali weed while you stay b*t*hes stay blazin' the brown (Get your weed up, muhf**kers)

Yo, step your whole game up, matter of fact (Woah)
Y'all some weak, pu**y motherf**kers (True)
And I ain't with it (True)
Switch ya style up (True), quit copyin' my sh*t
Check it, it's like

I feel like I'm standin' on the tip of my toes
Spittin' my flows, makin' motherf**kers switch up they roles
'Cause you gon' have to step your game up (What?)
Homie, change up
Every time you spittin' lines, comin' with the same stuff
You ain't tough, I'ma show the b*t*h [?] (Uh-huh)
I came from hand-me-downs, now look what I'm slippin' into (What?)
It's fresh clothes, yes, hoes, Beedie back on the grind
If somebody ain't with it, send 'em to the back of the line
And ya done, haha

And now ya stuck tryna make it up (What?)
So prepare for the heat when the flame erupts (Yep)
Have you twitchin' like you hittin' on some angel dust (Haha)
No one gives a f**k about you, we hate ya guts (b*t*h)
Plus, it ain't rough when I'm kickin' a free
That cat Mac name begins with a E, to the Z (Z)
From the home of the free, the land of the brave
I turn MC's into singin' [?], b*t*hes (Haha, yeah)

f**k y'all, muhf**kers
It's The Ill Spoken, time y'all lil' b*t*h-ass muhf**kers st—
Yo, I don't think th—

vídeo de música

Seu nome será publicado. Deixe os campos em branco para permanecer anônimo.