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Lirik Lagu Schoolboy Q – Hit Em Up


By: Admin | Artist: S schoolboy q | Published: 2024-14-05T07:11:56:00+07:00
Lirik Lagu Schoolboy Q – Hit Em UpLirikku.ID - Lirik Lagu Schoolboy Q – Hit Em Up: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Lirik Lagu Schoolboy Q – Hit Em Up" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton S schoolboy q. 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 Schoolboy Q – Hit Em Up Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[verse 1]
gunpowder on my fingertips
cocaine under my fingernails
look, mama, what schoolboy brought to show & tell
ain’t got no vest, protected by these sh-lls
kill or be killed, lift up souls, we raising h-ll
ungh – two for his back bring failure to his lungs
knock-knock-knock-knock your velvet rum
might burn your heart, this pistol’ll fill your tum’
ungh… ungh… dope dealer, dope n-gg-
got the stash in the rental takin’ blunts to the mental
f-ck y’all, go get ‘em – bang ‘em all
ball and ball, money tall, park the saab, i want it all
i want that crib and i want that yard
i want that broad and i want that car
i’ll pull your card for frontin’ like you hard
you be in deep sh-t from this pistol…
his heart racing, my heart’s not
shift his top, hold that thought
wave my flag, b-tch stop
you forgot, i hit ‘em up… yeah

[hook]
ungh… boy, i hit ‘em up…
ungh, motherf-cker, i hit ‘em up…
ungh… i say, n-gg-, i hit ‘em up…

[verse 2]
they come to me to learn sh-t they can’t learn in church
like get him ‘fore he get you first
jump out with j-o-b, ’bout to put in work (work… yeah)
have a seat, this bullet rip your shirt
ain’t nothing sweet, you’ll see a star burst
i keep orange laces in my converse
off house arrest, now hear this converse
i keep my pistol on my hip, usually that rubber grip
don’t have a half a clue, them boxes for hollow tips
i’ve got more oxy than a pharmacy
also, i keep action clips, when i move e
yeah, i swear to god won’t find a n-gg- like him
i greet ‘em, pop ‘em, then i as-salamu alayk-m ‘em
heaven or h-ll your only ultimatum
hit a p-ssy through his lip ring, my n-gg-s murder
no attempting – got blasted
‘nother dropped on his -ss, placed up in that body bag
toe tag, i hit ‘em up!

[hook]


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