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Get It Litty - Ebk young Joc Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: E ebk young joc | Published: 2024-01-10T11:56:55:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Get It Litty - Ebk young Joc Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Get It Litty - Ebk young Joc Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton E ebk young joc. 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 Get It Litty - Ebk young Joc Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

get it litty lyrics
[verse]
it get litty, it’s a party every time my n*ggas show up (and that’s for sho’)
boy, don’t die in this b*tch, watch what you throw up (watch what you throw up)
sick my purple rains got a stain from this soc
mix it up a little, couple drops, and it’s yola (yeah)
think he f*ckin’ with me, cuddy off some coca*cola (off that sh*t)
bullets flyin’ when we bouncin’ out this ‘yota (pow, pow, pow, pow)
i ain’t a p, she ran a fee, i guess i’m chosen (ayy, run it in)
i 2*0 in these streets, boy, i’m golden
ayy, pshh, real dope fiends (for sho’)
certified street n*gga, shoot and drop the whole thing (fa, fa, fa, fa)
i ain’t picking up today, let my phone ring (ayy, let it ring)
f*ck a half, blood, you know i copped the whole thing (ayy)
send her to the store and beat her ass, she copped thе wrong thing (b*tch)
she said that she leaving, told hеr, “bye”, let the hoe leave (bye)
this a vlone shirt, plain, but a long*sleeve
finna take a trip, do something different down in long beach (hold on)
and i ain’t talkin’ bout no vacation
if you gon’ do the move, then do it now, blood, i hate waitin’
hotboii, sittin’ in this room got him fake bakin’ (hot! hot!)
juke move on a fufu, get to shake, shakin’ (ah, ah)
my d*ck in her belly, she tryna run, no she can’t take it (ayy)
them n*ggas die on that side, they just can’t face it
bro got a ‘cat, i got a ‘hawk, but we ain’t racin’ (skrrt)
n*gga, i don’t f*ckin’ cap
i just sh*t talk on these beats, i don’t mumble rap (ayy)
b*tch sparked up a seed in her ‘wood, what the f*ck is that? (ayy, what the f*ck)
blood doin’ a hunnid, almost lost him, but he brung it back (skrrt)
f*ck a stock clip, cuddy, my glock got a drum attached
my doobie in the ashtray, so don’t touch it, i ain’t done with that (ayy, don’t touch it)
i’m finna roll it up, and smoke a copper (copper)
bippin’ whips, got no cuts, blood i do it proper (proper)
don’t get smoked tryna fight, i ain’t no boxer i ain’t no boxer (i ain’t no boxer)
she doin’ splits in this b*tch, i’m finna knock her
come see how we kick it, sh*t, i ain’t talkin’ bout soccer
this b*tch talk the most sh*t, but she can’t show a dollar (can’t show a dollar)
i’m finna roast your dusty ass, i got the hollas
it’s nothin’ but gangsters and p’s in here poppin collars (poppin’ collars)
i’m a beast n*gga, street n*gga with some knowledge (with some knowledge)
but, sh*t, i ain’t go to college (nah)
i start playin’ with guns, go for nun, we was robbin’
this ain’t nef the pharoah, but my n*ggas big tymin’ (big tymin’)
i’m tryna cop a rollie with the big diamonds (big diamonds)
if i say i’m comin’, n*gga, whole clique slidin’ (whole clique slidin’)
tryna ride the wave, boy, you n*ggas d*ck ridin’ (d*ck ridin’)
i don’t say slatt, b*tch, my n*ggas big slimin’
(leek, this muhf*cka so sleezy)

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