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Lirik Lagu Kold. – Nasty Freestyle (remix)


By: Admin | Artist: K kold | Published: 2024-30-06T08:31:23:00+07:00
Lirik Lagu Kold. – Nasty Freestyle (remix)Lirikku.ID - Lirik Lagu Kold. – Nasty Freestyle (remix): Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Lirik Lagu Kold. – Nasty Freestyle (remix)" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton K kold. 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 Kold. – Nasty Freestyle (remix) Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[produced by 30 roc]

[intro]
shout-outs to t-wayne, man
i had to hop on this one

[verse]
first, let me hop out the motherf-kin’ porsche
got the drop top down with them suicide doors
catch me posted in the cut with that cotton, no bandage
stackin’ on these squares like a game of f-ckin’ tetris
i’m the mvp like my name stephen curry
man, they tryna act foul, caught a technical, no worries
all i need is one shot, tec’s will bl–dy up ya jewelry
i ain’t playin’ no games, f-ck you take me for, atari?
got a bad b-tch with me, man, she ridin’ in the p-ssy
tryna see her suck seed then she gotta hail a cabbie
yeah, yeah, yeah, i’m a dog, alpha male, call me cujo
foamin’ out the mouth, best go and grab yo pistol
stylin’ on these hoes, i can tell why they mad
y’all ain’t f-ckin’ with these j’s like your last name dash
f-ck, f-ck bein’ meek, my smoke louder than a motherf-cker
and i mess with nicki, cop some loosies, bring a couple of ’em
lean in my cup, whip in circles like a turnstile
bottom to the top, lovin’ how the tables turned now
catch me livin’ regal like my name’s neels visser
give ya shorty back shots and know i won’t miss her
got a lotta homies that move weight from they porch
man, we standin’ on that green like we in pga tours
master champ’ with this sh-t, jordan spieth with the nine, yo
watch ya self around here like a clock on the wrist, ho
coach-lla pockets, boy, the kid got bands
i remember bein’ broke and havin’ nothin’ to my name
now i’m hoppin’ out of planes from ny to la
tryna be a f-ckin’ legend, jerry west or kanye
man, wake the h-ll up if you sleepin’ on me
got these rappers all tight like t-wayne’s black tee
man, they been g-ssed up, they let they fans mislead
catch me airin’ ’em out like i’m tom brady
young n-gga got it, man, i’m all about my paper
if she want it, give her wood, son, like i’m charles from the raiders
man, i’ll free the safety, know dudes who shoot and ask later
any day could meet your maker, every mornin’ makin’ prayers like

[outro]
yeah, yeah
amen, amen, amen
makin’ prayers like…
kold


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