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Power - Jenn carter & Tata Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: J jenn carter tata | Published: 2024-22-09T21:29:54:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Power - Jenn carter & Tata Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Power - Jenn carter & Tata Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton J jenn carter tata. 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 Power - Jenn carter & Tata Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro: jenn carter]
gang, gang, gang, n*gga
i said ta in the spot
kr in the spot
(good job, sho)
hear that fendi? (21st*century schizoid man)
gang, look, grahh, grahh

[verse 1: jenn carter]
tata, he gon’ up it, he feenin’
i be buggin’, i feel like i’m dreamin’
she be tweakin’, she want me to beat it
we do it so often i don’t need a weekend
she be buggin’, don’t need me no s*m*n
i’m all in her tummy, she know i’m a demon
and the za’ got me buggin’ and leanin’
my eyes is so low, you would think that i’m sleepin’
doomsday, say shoot like a laker
she a baddie, say she from jamaica
shoot while i’m faded like this sh*t a tape*up
dead presidents all in my papers
if it’s beef, we gon’ up that
ain’t no peace, we disrupt that
she a freak, in the sheets
shorty geeked, she gon’ rush that
call me, “baby”, she think i’m a rugrat
i’m a demon, so you know i can’t cuff that
shootin’ like tatum, know dee, he gon’ dump that
on your block, make it hot, where your gun at?
worried ’bout clout while you worried ’bout dividends
f*ck around, we gon’ knock off ya fitted cap
worred ’bout b*tches while we worried ’bout presidents
dummy boy, you don’t shoot like the mavericks
[verse 2: tata]
don’t get me tight, i call dee, he might clap at you
shorty toxic, i don’t like her attitude
i’m gettin’ money, why would i be mad at you?
brodie might spin, turn your name to an avenue
she want my snapchat, me and bro was creepin’ thru the trenches, i be havin’ flashbacks (good job, sho)
yeah it’s hot outside, it’s time to act bad (21st*century schizoid man)
bro got the rock ’em open, tell ’em, “pass that”
me and bro gettin’ deady, yeah i’m ready
i tell jenn, “bring the jenny”, she ready
she call up the legs, they want party with jenny
tell me i’m cute, she wanna take a selfie
they say i got issues, he think it’s sweet because i’m little
i hit ’em, he sees i go dumb with this pistol
yeah, they say i’m so drippy and [?], so they losin’ they sickness
it’s beef, heard, slide to his mother house
open the door, put the gun in his mother mouth
i ain’t have n0body, had to thug it out
walk in the spot, and i swear that they frotin’ out
it’s beef, heard, slide to his mother house
open the door, put the gun in his mother mouth
i ain’t have n0body, had to thug it out
walk in the spot, and i swear that they frotin’ out

[outro: tata]
run up on me, get shot if he what? grahh
(21st*century schizoid man)

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