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Checks - Jakprogresso Lyrics


By: Admin | Artist: J jakprogresso | Published: 2024-30-09T12:21:57:00+07:00
Checks - Jakprogresso LyricsLirikku.ID - Checks - Jakprogresso Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Checks - Jakprogresso Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton J jakprogresso. 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 Checks - Jakprogresso Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

intro:

yo yo you ever had that perfect talent, that got so f*cked up, and formed the stash spot?
* i definitely did…
i wish i could afford, man, yo i would
f*ck, yo, ayo, yo

verse:

toothbrush and bleach
tired eye, my black sheets pink from scrubbing sneaks
scr*pe the scrat scuffle
stash coke 20s in them vapormax bubbles
air’s maxed out, and beat to death
i need them checks, i’m not even really a sneakerhead (nah)
dab in the land o’ lakes
rock them applewhite cortezes in santa fe
some pairs got, pockets for plush racks
dark green retros match the mint black dust packs
bate’s whole collection, dabby on board
fresh kicks (f*ck) sneakin’ like new wax on a ball court
drop acid and run up in the waldorf
black and brown air forces lookin’ like sawed*offs (haha!)
nah, i’m not into kicks
but dmt tan checks over paisley cinnamon (wow)
first pair got, hit by virginity’s first come
when i was 5 years old, i had smurf ones
man i swear that jones beat church some
walkin’ around heated after the first scuff (f*ck, f*ck!)
’90s weekend, night before halloween
runnin’ from cops, black air maxes and shavin’ cream
make grades in vhs tapes
dust a clutchin’ chestplate, puked on the red grapes
ewwww….
yo, yo, yo, would’ve thunk those could hold b*tt in tacts
slit the tongue stuff in tabs, kicks become a trap (word)
red bottom no blood clots, open box
my closet gonna look like, jim jones’ garage
i want shatterin’ tongues, by the metric
air zoom super repent loser like a bad hit
no sock sweatin’, they took my laces during hospital check*in
yo these boots were made for jettin’…
outro:

* a lotta people will tell you that cocaine not only will get you high, but will take your performance to the next level. but in this case the higher you go, the closer you get to the bottom…
* stop judgin’, man!
* (whispering) [?] every day is war…


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