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Autopsy - Surf Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: S surf | Published: 2024-20-09T21:35:37:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Autopsy - Surf Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Autopsy - Surf Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton S surf. 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 Autopsy - Surf Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro]
and we smokin’ opp pack, we gon’ turn him to some zaza
real popstar, man, i feel like lady gaga (bnyx)
ayo, ian (ayo, ian)

[verse]
uh (yeah), i’ma take it to the d
xanny help me fall asleep
i’ma throw that b*tch in deep
i been smokin’ on this za (za)
i need fifteen for a g
loud pack in the air (yeah), i can’t even hear me think
nah, we ain’t playin’ fair, tell that n*gga “check the score” (go)
i got numbers on the board (go)
i got n*ggas like a wh0re (go)
i don’t wanna see you breathin’, i’ma k!ll you at the morgue (yeah)
i’ma be the postman (yeah, yeah), i’ma see you at the door (ha)
i need money on me now (now), i will never come up short (no)
even though i’m from the south (yeah), i’ma takе it to the north
and we got a hundred rounds (woah), wе gon’ shoot ’em out the porch
my lil’ n*gga thirteen (yeah), already jumped up off the porch
i’ma stay on bouldercrest (yeah), but i got hoes in every state
i’m getting money every way (ha), i sh*t on n*ggas every day
my accountant said i’m countin’ up, i’m countin’ up the cake
and it’s f*ck a nine to five, to the bank, i’m never late (ha)
and you know i watch my step, b*tch, i’m never trippin’ (nah)
it don’t matter what i rep, my lil’ brother crippin’ (yeah)
how the f*ck that boy my son? i ain’t got no children (uh*uh)
i got dior across my chest but i am not no christian (uh*uh)
my brother livin’ in atlanta, he from michigan (yeah)
my n*gga play for alabama, we gon’ win again (facts)
he sendin’ shots right at my name but he ain’t sendin’ sh*t (dummy)
b*tch, it’s my last name, for real, i want them benjamins (dummy)
i ain’t have it on me then, i got my sh*t today (okay)
we gon’ run inside your hood and we gon’ renovate (okay)
i’ma put your main b*tch on my dinner plate (okay)
why he actin’ like he tough? we gon’ get him straight (okay)
i got n*ggas in atlando, they got mad ammo (okay)
i got soldiers, they be lurkin’, they got mad camo (okay)
n*ggas jealous, man, i learned it from the santana (yeah)
i just wiped off my bullets with my bandana (b*tch)
wait, hol’ up, wait a minute (woah)
y’all thought i was finished (why?)
when i got that new m3, y’all thought it was rented (how?)
flexin’ on these n*ggas, feel like popeye on his spinach (okay)
i feel like i’m neo in the matrix, b*tch, i’m in it (b*tch)
model x, and you know it came windows tinted (b*tch)
yeah, designer s*x, put you in chanel when i’m finished (b*tch)
when i talk to god, girl, you know i pray for forgiveness (b*tch)
i done wrong, when i said i’m sorry, girl, i meant it (b*tch)
yeah, why would i stop goin’ hard? i’m on top (why?)
yeah, designer my socks, it be gucci when i walk (okay)
i done fell in love with money, i won’t fall in love with thots (uh*uh)
i can’t fall in love with you, you think you bougie when you not (yeah)
and she hate my attitude, she be sayin’ that i’m c*cky (oh)
i’ll k!ll my own family, i feel like i was sasuke (oh)
and i promise he gon’ die if he ever try to rob me (oh)
we gon’ do that boy wrong, we gon’ give an autopsy (yeah)

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