Informazioni sulla canzone In questa pagina puoi trovare il testo della canzone Blatlanta, artista - Waka Flocka Flame. Data di rilascio: 01.03.2018
Limiti di età: 18+
Linguaggio delle canzoni: inglese
Blatlanta |
| I’m from southside of this Blatlanta |
| Got shooters in Chiraq |
| Got shooters that’ll blast you |
| I’m good in places you’ve never been |
| They’ll give you shots, no medicine |
| So test Flock, don’t try that |
| I got little niggas with big guns |
| Take limbs off like that’s contact |
| And ain’t scared to catch no murder case |
| Every summer, boost the murder rate |
| Won’t send em now, I’ll send em them later |
| When they cool off, I’ll prefer to wait |
| Cause a real boss got to think smart |
| Cause the goal is to get cleaned off |
| While winners beef, we never see y’all |
| Cause the truth is your team soft |
| You ain’t good out in these streets, nigga |
| You’re a foreign, no green card |
| I been out in these streets, nigga |
| Since a young nigga getting green off |
| Jewelry on out in any hood, won’t believe what this ring cost |
| Never tucking my chain in and I’m pulling up in your dream car |
| Can’t talk real and not mention me |
| What? You niggas don’t get it yet |
| I’m the realest in it and I built your image |
| Turn any block to Virginia Tech |
| You a pussy nigga never been a threat |
| I’m throwing bullets, Eli Manning |
| Any time you can intercept like Brandon Lee die in your set |
| Like blaow! |
| Nigga I ain’t playin' no games |
| I ain’t talking 'bout a Rover when I say I got range like blaow! |
| Frontin' for the fame get your name on the news |
| Cause I really got aim with the tool like blaow! |
| Shoot outs ain’t nothing that’s new to me |
| I’m only 2 or 3 he gone catch 2 or 3 |
| Right through his jewelry nigga you food to me |
| Shouldn’t have said what you said you gone do to me |
| These rappers as fake as a 3 dollar bill |
| And I really don’t care how they feel |
| Don’t make you a gangster cause you touched a mill ' |
| Put you on the plate, I make you a meal |
| Don’t make me reveal the truth about you niggas |
| You know that I will green light you for real |
| It’s nothing my nigga I put on your head all bread that you signed for your deal |
| Boy we know you a façade |
| Know you won’t ride, everything you say a lie |
| Ain’t no surprise, beefing with me isn’t wise |
| All these crooks oversize, swallow your pride |
| Or you can swallow this nine, really don’t matter to me |
| I let you decide maybe I might let you slide, sike, homicide |
| Before this rap I was your favorite rappers favorite shooter |
| It ain’t a question I’m a rider like I drive a hoover |
| I’m too G so without me there wouldn’t be no Google |
| Your street cred a 3.50 without my approval |