Wockeisha - Shabazz pbg Lyrics
By: Admin | Artist: S shabazz pbg | Published: 2024-22-09T00:19:00:00+07:00
Lirikku.ID - Wockeisha - Shabazz pbg Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Wockeisha - Shabazz pbg Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton S shabazz pbg. 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 Wockeisha - Shabazz pbg Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.[intro]
shabazz, n-gg-
lil’ b-tch
[chorus]
i took my foot out the trap
run it up, b-tch, i got racks
these n-gg-s is b-tches, they wack
runnin’ laps ’round you n-gg-s, no track
i sip purple codeine, call it wockeisha
grab it, pour up in a liter
got a spanish b-tch, call her mamacita
i might hit from the back and i leave her
we been trappin’ and juggin’ since beepers
now the coupes white and black like a zebra
keep her b-tch, she came from argentina
in that h-llcat, forgot ’bout the bimmer
my young n-gg- gon’ creep like the reaper
bro got white, call it lindsay or lisa
we got more cheese than a f-ckin’ pizza
b-tch, keep calling my phone, she gon’ geek it up
[verse]
when it come to the head, she gon’ eat it up
b-tch, i count nothing but deads
and that new glock got a leg
the fn got one in the head
all that sneak dissing gon’ get your man hit
work your b-tch, i need them bands
smash the coupe, i did the dash
spin your block with paper tags
these n-gg-s going out sad
christian dior, pop the tag (cost a bag)
b-tch, we been gettin’ them bags (b-tch)
we ain’t never had to wear no uniform
thot b-tch think she special like a unicorn (lil’ b-tch)
i just want the neck like an id
n-gg-s ain’t saving opps, no iv
you can be the next n-gg-, come try me
[chorus]
i took my foot out the trap
run it up, b-tch, i got racks
these n-gg-s is b-tches, they wack
runnin’ laps ’round you n-gg-s, no track
i sip purple codeine, call it wockeisha
grab it, pour up in a liter
got a spanish b-tch, call her mamacita
i might hit from the back and i leave her
we been trappin’ and juggin’ since beepers
now the coupes white and black like a zebra
keep her b-tch, she came from argentina
in that h-llcat, forgot ’bout the bimmer
my young n-gg- gon’ creep like the reaper
bro got white, call it lindsay or lisa
we got more cheese than a f-ckin’ pizza
b-tch, keep calling my phone, she gon’ geek it up
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