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Lirik Lagu Rome streetz – Stunna


By: Admin | Artist: R rome streetz | Published: 2024-15-05T05:10:46:00+07:00
Lirik Lagu Rome streetz – StunnaLirikku.ID - Lirik Lagu Rome streetz – Stunna: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Lirik Lagu Rome streetz – Stunna" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton R rome streetz. 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 Rome streetz – Stunna Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro: sample & rome streetz]
this guy’s k!lled before!
it was too easy for him
yeah
we in this b~tch
yeah, yeah

[verse 1: rome streetz]
yeah, b~tch, ain’t sh~t changed, pockets stayin’ full of hunnids (uh~huh)
keep the steel by the stomach
diamond grill, i’m a stunna; if she trill, i’ma f~ck her (yeah)
thousand pills to the runner; countin’ bills when i wanna
plenty mils i’ma run up
dressed to k!ll, i’m a gunna; slime for real, never rat on my brothers (nah)
drop the work in the bubbles
in the murder mitt’, i’m with boldy and double (uh~huh)
grand theft auto was lit, now i’m rollin’ legit in that h~llcat with all of the muscles (skrrt)
two hunnid on the dashboard; if your song come on, we fast~forward (y’all n~ggas trash)
whoevеr let you in the studio should get shot, rеcordin’ that trash noise
leveled up, now my wrist glittery (bling!); all of the haters in misery
i skate in a benz with all the amenities; none of these n~ggas ain’t lit as me (nah)
on the road to riches, got a bl!ck, a brick and your b~tch in the middle seat (what else?)
you ballin’, but that sh~t little league; my sh~t lit out in italy
started off with a slice, but i always had a plot to get a bigger piece (uh~huh)
got my hands on a pie, lettin’ zips fly, i had a trap in the east, gettin’ cash
my eyes only recognize dollar signs, i’m addicted to the bag (money)
slow down? nah, b~tch, i’m livin’ fast
blowin’ rounds, big bl!cky in the stash (bah! bah!)
[verse 2: double dee & boldy james]
yeah, gang, money long as the l train (cheeewm)
two tears in a bucket, f~ck it
i’m who taught ’em how to hustle; they was ballin’ on a budget
i was servin’ all the cluckers; thirty~pointers in my buffies (buffies)
rollie, cuttin’ up in traffic (yeah); boldy bustin’ up a backy
up the strig, i don’t trust it (i don’t); hunnid bands in my luggage
got the guns and the b~tter (uh); little man, did i stutter?
stuntman in a hummer, poppin’ bands with my brother
one hand wash the other (uh~uh)
in the trap with the takers; red rag on a thumper
put a tag on his taper
rumble pak on a drac~y, head~top you with the caker (drr~r~rt)
yeah, hoe, clip long as my elbow, stuck to me like velcro
when the chair roll, got the tec with the air holes, leave you stiff as a scarecrow (yeah)
pumpin’ big blow; now we fronted your distro, cuban doin’ the disco (yeah)
money mitch flow; your b~tch love how my wrist glow
tricky dance moves, no sisqo
never froze or had cold feet; pullin’ all~nighters, gettin’ no sleep
play with gang, you know i’m gon’ tweak
shout to rome streetz, it’s been a long week
sold a hundred lil’ bo~peeps, now it’s twenty bad b~tches on fleek
got me kickin’ up chickens with no grease (what else?)

[verse 3: boldy james]
yeah, it’s true; everything that i say, i do
really am who i say i’m is (yeah, uh~huh)
really play with strigs, sig sauers and katydids (bah)
growin’ up, we was bebe kids
duckin’ atf (ay) and the task, the way we live
catch a strap, they gon’ say it’s his
i’ma say it’s not; if they run in and raid the spot
pop up on you, this ain’t a quiz (uh~uh)
jammin’ rock like a jamaican kid; either break bread, or we gon’ break a rib (cha~ching)
sippin’ syrup out in mapleridge, got my p~ss purple when i take a whiz (pour up)
pourin’ up lean, all the dope that i touch clean
dropping red thicker than some duck sauce (straight drop)
n~ggas in the ghetto playin’ dirty with the wop, chasin’ all the clucks off
seven~sixin’ in the drug zone, servin’ custos, duckin’ jumpouts (blockworks)
all them b~tches speakin’ down on the jones, left them b~tches with the yuckmouth (ugh)
ducked off in the spig off [?], countin’ up a hun’ bun (sk~skrrt)
n~ggas know not to call the batphone if it ain’t about the mon~ion (h~llo?)
stick up, playin’ field hockey; know these n~ggas wanna k!llshot me
spend twenty, get sixty back; hunnid~fifty racks, that’s a real profit
you ain’t never did a ninety~ball off the tylenol, havin’ tunnel vision (never touched that)
everything is all paper, all scratch, all skrilla
‘specially when you run with k!llas
[outro: boldy james]
where we at?
creatures


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