London - Joey trap Lyrics
By: Admin | Artist: J joey trap | Published: 2024-01-10T11:17:06:00+07:00
Lirikku.ID - London - Joey trap Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "London - Joey trap Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton J joey trap. 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 London - Joey trap Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.[intro]
ooh, mm [?]
n*gga, ooh, ooh (london pound cake 75, n*gga)
i’m out in london i’m smoking on london (ooh, huh, uh)
bai*bai*baik roll that gas up
huh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh (gelato, [?])
[chorus]
ah, n*gga we out in london toting on a beam
day ones, no new friends f*ck you n*ggas mean
8 pounds, i feel dead smoking blue dream
i’m f*cking on a lil’ bad b*tch and she a fiend uh
no i ain’t go to prom, this a stretched out limousine
we gon’ shoot ’til you read every page of this magazine
smoking on purp’ lemon lava cake, it’s gasoline
i put ya b*tch in a prada fit, she on her knees ooh
[post*chorus]
ooh, ooh (uh, uh)
i was just bagging up (uh, uh, uh, uh)
i was just bagging up grams
and i played all my cards, why you can’t see my hand
i be walking out the trap house and hop in a lamb
yes i’m gon’ tax for a brick, uncle sam
[verse]
ooh, ooh, yeah
i give hope to the streets man i feel like a preacher
man the enginе so loud swear the rari a creaturе
i know you want to cuff me but b*tch you a treesha
n*gga if you got no money don’t ask for no feature
i might just get a foreign b*tch a new visa
uh, uh (uh, uh)
n*gga, ayy, racks baby
flipping a brick around, i need a 10 piece
why you leaving your b*tch alone, n*gga don’t tempt me
you was sleep in your home, she throw top in a benzy
n*gga don’t want smoke, shots ’til it’s empty
i stay with a choppa n*gga, call me chopo
smoking on super sour grape gelato
i’m always wining go check the score, i feel like fabo
b*tch i’m the plug like i’m escobar, call me pablo, n*gga
[chorus]
woah, n*gga we out in london toting on a beam
day ones, no new friends f*ck you n*ggas mean
8 pounds, i feel dead smoking blue dream
i’m f*cking on a lil’ bad b*tch and she a fiend uh
no i ain’t go to prom, this a stretched out limousine
we gon’ shoot ’til you read every page of this magazine
smoking on purp’ lemon lava cake, it’s gasoline
i put ya b*tch in a prada fit, she on her knees ooh
[post*chorus]
ooh, ooh (uh, uh)
i was just bagging up (uh, uh, uh, uh)
i was just bagging up grams
and i played all my cards, why you can’t see my hand
i be walking out the trap house and hop in a lamb
yes i’m gon’ tax for a brick, uncle sam
[outro]
ooh, ooh
i’m out in london i’m thumbing up bands
uh
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