Trenches - A$ton matthews Lyrics
By: Admin | Artist: A aton matthews | Published: 2024-21-09T07:06:11:00+07:00
Lirikku.ID - Trenches - A$ton matthews Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Trenches - A$ton matthews Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton A aton matthews. Dengan chord yang disajikan, pemula atau penggemar musik dapat dengan mudah memainkan lagu ini dengan gitar mereka sendiri. Kami menyajikan chord dengan akurasi tinggi sehingga pemain dapat mengikuti alunan musiknya dengan baik. Juga, kami akan memberikan informasi tambahan mengenai lirik lagu dan mungkin beberapa tips untuk menyempurnakan permainan gitar. Konten ini cocok untuk penggemar musik yang ingin belajar lagu baru atau bagi mereka yang ingin menikmati kesenangan bermain musik dengan gitar.
Silahkan disimak Trenches - A$ton matthews Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.[verse 1]
make yo b-tch drown, break a brick down
30 pop a juntao, turn yo whip round
benji on the fall in, let the sh-t pile
sleezy on the call in, tryin’ get wild
had lil baby in the vip yeah, off the rip yeah
bust it down into a split yeah, on the d-ck yeah
couple thou-wow on the fit, another kicks yeah
spent yo rent on what i sip, i know i got ’em sick yeah
but that ain’t really sh-t yeah
im’a walkin l!ck cause young n-gga talkin’ brick fair
know i had to make the sh-t clear
money counter choppin’ like a windmill
please tell me what’s the issue
commas on yo head i bet them n-ggas gon’ forget you
fourth and goal we gotta blitz you
shooters goin’ dummy if i ever blow the whistle
bruce wayne in the hussein
keep the beef brackin’ from the color of my shoe strings
something stocky for the mood swing
i be prada stepping wit the loose change
somethin’ foreign where i lay
somethin’ foreign on the plate
we be scoring by the 8
we be pouring by the 8
n-ggas dishin’ out the weight
you can get it by the whole half, quarter, or the eighth
ain’t afraid to do the leg work
boy i always put the bread first
know these diamonds make a b-tch flirt
see the envy know the sh-t hurt
i seen yamborghini die up in his sleep – aye
type sh-t that haunt me underneath – aye
paranoia got me clutchin’ on the heat – aye
all these dead faces i can hear em when they speak – aye
[chorus]
finger on the trigger while i’m counting up the dead
slippin’ in the trenches put them halos on ya head
pistol on the counter n-gga pistol to yo head
ran all out of wocky so we sippin’ on the red
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