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Errrr [bonus] - Outer concept Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: O outer concept | Published: 2024-30-09T08:19:36:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Errrr [bonus] - Outer concept Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Errrr [bonus] - Outer concept Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton O outer concept. 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 Errrr [bonus] - Outer concept Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[verse 1: the majedi]
back in the booth ready to drop some wisdom
multi dimensional like rectangular prisms
no matter what’s said no dents in my armor
i’m not irish but i’m sure a lucky charmer
b-tch named karma done me dirty
ill be surprised if the b-tch lets me see thirty
i talk dirty with foul language
throw in some spanish and call it spanglish
dead in the middle of little italy
there ain’t no itty bitty t-tty b-tches in my cities committee g
now how’d you like that big pun tribute
we blowing up just wait for the cl!ck boom
me and my cl!ck too bout to raise h-lla havoc
while i stack more green than the planet namek
we been raising havoc where you been man
’cause i turned heartless call me tin man

[chorus: danny g]
concept is the clique, get you b-tch off my d-ck
that sh-t made no sense but whatever
this beat is f-cking ham, make your fam a bunch of fans
and that drunk b-tch from last week you can bring her
got the b-tches on the phone, and this kid is home alone
let’s make this an evening we won’t remember
the beats, i’m down, studio, i’m down
the whole world we down, f-ck you, censored

[verse 2: danny g]
you funk pucks chef wolfgang cooking up all you jive turkeys
jive but not fresh cause you feathered b-tches expire early
making lops puke at the sound of a stocked sample
skinny pixled spick with the swag of an unstopped vandal, handle
beats every session making sh-t that make you listen louder
dropping f-cking bars like h0m-s up in them prison showers
my vision’s power, pitching up chords and doing melissa ford
more or so an -ssh0l- when i’m picking my sh-t up
and dippin’ out her
the only colombian with out a sack of f-ckin’ powder
the only sack i own is under my denim jeans and f-ckin’ trousers
from thai town express to roscoes up in gower
to wonderful harlem these b-tches shakin’ no bauer
baby girl i got the power, make it sting sour
chew that chunky monkey good leave your booty sayin’ wowzer
i get the cream like chowder, danny out the house
we rollin’ out like my concept trick, out her

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