Lirik Lagu Dead white Bitches – Dwm Ain’t Shit
By: Admin | Artist: D dead white bitches | Published: 2024-14-05T14:26:05:00+07:00
Lirikku.ID - Lirik Lagu Dead white Bitches – Dwm Ain’t Shit: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Lirik Lagu Dead white Bitches – Dwm Ain’t Shit" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton D dead white bitches. 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 Lirik Lagu Dead white Bitches – Dwm Ain’t Shit Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.[verse 1: young grundy]
dead white males, i could make it happen yet
just do it yourself, play some russian roulette
with a fully loaded clip, do the world a f-ckin’ favor
stop tryna f-ckin’ rap, stealin’ richard gein’s flavor
hatin’ on sl-ts, what the f-ck, you g-y?
maybe the reason for ya frustrations, ya never been laid
you ain’t never been paid, for ya music at least
i heard last week, ya candy chains all you got to eat
i’m elite, better than a whole fleet of imitators
keepin’ it underground, if i didn’t, i’d be famous
but you ain’t ever gonna make it, horrorcore or not
try to do ya rap in the hood, ya might get shot
i might like it a lot, on the news white boys popped
what a show stopper, although n0body callin’ the cops
go ahead and get props from the other double c’s
‘cuz these artists knowin’ that you some r-t-rded mc’s
[verse 2: demonseed]
i keep a oj trigger murder fresh squeeze
i can make ya a dead white male just meet me in the streets
i don’t give a f-ck who ya be f-ck the police
i’m that beast from the east, so it’s rip
ya in the cemetary, now the unhallowed grounds
we h-llbent and h-llbound, to put ya in the burial mound
white sheets wrapped up ya bodies never found
murder, yeah boy, that’s a pistol in ya mouth
with ya brains blown out, brain damage
while ya stuck on that r-t-rd sound, i’m on that rebound now
flippin’ the f-ck out like ya would if ya seen them pounds
roll another blunt, yeah, we puffin’ on the ounce
if you lookin’ up to richard gein, i got alot of doubt
ya ain’t goin’ nowere, ya didn’t figure that out
brain damage b-tches need to shut they motherf-ckin’ mouth
demon seed motherf-cker and i’m back on the beat
gotta tell ya though, i wasn’t feeling the last cd
but i’m alot better now since vita itaque mortis
i make ya b-st-rd’s bleed, ‘cuz i’ma casket fiend
i got savage needs slit ya throat, ‘cuz ya f-ckin’ weak
so sick, yeah, it’s just mentally look at me, i’m a motherf-ckin’ protege
ya a memory, i’m just a k!ller on the creep
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