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Lirik Lagu Ft Vince Staples Earl Sweatshirt - Burgundy (ft. Vince Staples) - Earl Sweatshirt


By: Admin | Artist: F ft vince staples earl sweatshirt | Published: 2024-03-07T07:05:54:00+07:00
Lirik Lagu Ft Vince Staples Earl Sweatshirt - Burgundy (ft. Vince Staples) - Earl SweatshirtLirikku.ID - Lirik Lagu Ft Vince Staples Earl Sweatshirt - Burgundy (ft. Vince Staples) - Earl Sweatshirt: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Lirik Lagu Ft Vince Staples Earl Sweatshirt - Burgundy (ft. Vince Staples) - Earl Sweatshirt" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton F ft vince staples earl sweatshirt. 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 Ft Vince Staples Earl Sweatshirt - Burgundy (ft. Vince Staples) - Earl Sweatshirt Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

all the bad b-tches boo when you rap
i can teach you how to pull em like a tutor in fact, i got
one in the front and
two in the back
these b-tches keep screaming “odd future is back!”
x2

wolf with a t-rex c-ck
less talk while i invest stock in wet rock
smoke with all the big b-tches b-mpin’ bed rock
sub in the trunk thumping up against the dead cops
and poppin like i tossed a match in the engine
and go harder than a f-ckin crack intervention
clown of the cl-ss and the last to attend it
big earl make you f-gs stand at attention

odd future i’m your mother f-ckin general
catch you where slap, slap, stab b-tches n-gg-rs go
girl you ain’t even gotta ask cause you’re feelin know
why this playboy so sticky in the centerfold
sticky where my n-gg-s blow
icky earl finish first
hit em low
riddle them with chronicles of ridd-ck bows
chronic in the spliff to the dome, got my system slow
so i’m walkin out, ask them n-gg-s what they spittin’ for

black ted bundy, sick as john gacy
chillin’ with a possible victim, she was 18
a hitchhikin hippie wh-r-
met her at the liquor store
she frequented to help support the habit picked up in the 4th
grade a piece of -ss, so i planned on scr-w-ng it
slipped a couple roofalin inside the b-tches juice and gin
next thing you know, we’re on earl’s burgundy carpet
and she’s kicking and screaming, beggin for me to f-ckin stop it
look, you know it’s not rape if you like it b-tch
so sit down like a pretty ho and don’t fight the sh-t
or else i’ll have to tie a pretty bow around your bl–dy neck
hide the slices from the gashes gven with a dull gillette
mop the blood up with the body in the apartment
stash it where we hide the marijuana and the condoms

“hey, what’s that!”

don’t touch it or even f-ckin look
you’re fantasia and the body bag’s a f-ckin book

yo vince, let me tell you bout these ho’s i met last night
they thought i was cute ’till i asked what that -ss like
d-mn right, red light, ran right through it
“you don’t even have your permit, what the f-ck are you doin?!”
well maybe if you’d shut the f-ck up we be cruising
and you wouldn’t be sittin boo-hoo’in bout your bruises
but no, you wanna be miss “f-ck with the music”
i’m zoning on relapse, she’s slidin on blueprint
3 seconds it takes for her to turn blue with my hands around her throat
her arms stop movin’
pulse stops, too in the back, look confused i turn to tell ’em both not to do sh-t stupid
red, white, blue lights in the rear view, sh-t
swerve to the shoulder tell em both no movin sit
down in the back cause the windows tinted
as i roll down mine to forge a new friendship
“aren’t you a little too young to be driving?”
look, officer. i’m just trying to get home
“get out the f-ckin car with your license and registration”
i ain’t getting out of sh-t, you startin to try my patience
didn’t have back up i could tell by the hummin bike
reach to the glove, grab the mother f-ckin hunting knife
stabbed him in his neck and hip
threw him in the truck and dipped
back to the f-ckin crib for some tea and crumpets, sh-t

all the bad b-tches boo when you rap
i can teach you how to pull em like a tutor in fact
a dead one in the front, dead cop in the back
the two live b-tches screaming ‘odd future is back!”


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