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Swear To God - Tee grizzley Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: T tee grizzley | Published: 2024-30-09T22:36:39:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Swear To God - Tee grizzley Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Swear To God - Tee grizzley Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton T tee grizzley. 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 Swear To God - Tee grizzley Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro: future & tee grizzley]
(wheezy outta here)
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah, pluto (woah, woah, woah, woah, woah)
i swear to god
yeah

[chorus: future & tee grizzley]
f*ck your album, sh*t ain’t slappin’ like my mixtape (f*ck your album)
i’m gettin’ saudi arabia money, servin’ oil*based (what’s happenin’?)
rob a rapper and say my name, get his chain back (pluto)
my b*tch cheat on me, i find out, get her chain sn*tched (woo)
thousand grams on a cuban, bought a few blocks (g7, one hundred)
hustler of the century, ordered up a few drops (g7)
park a ferrari in the trenches, feel like 2pac (let’s get it, grr)
bought a patek for my b*tch, shе signed to death row (let’s gеt it, suge)

[verse 1: tee grizzley]
my b*tch ain’t gon’ cheat unless it’s with a b*tch we brought back home (sheesh)
i ain’t talkin’ clothes with crosses, we all pop out rockin’ chrome (sheesh)
this money sh*t get blown, these b*tches, they get flown and sent back home (sheesh)
drink ’bout this in level two macon, we f*ckin’ it up in rome
all this sh*t i seen, got too much trauma, i need therapy
glock 10 in my pair of thieves, these tennis chains a carat each
my lil’ b*tch, she barely speak, just suck d*ck, can barely breathe
swear to god, i barely beg, but, n*gga, get off my d*ck please (b*tch)
we move like the mob (we on that)
that pressure get applied (at all times)
n*gga play, he dyin’ (what else?)
i swear to god (on me)
my’eisha, she fine (that’s wifey)
guess what else, she mine (come on)
two*fifty on the watch (what else?)
i ain’t never on time (never)
street n*gga from the trenches, swear to god, i made millions (i did)
i went and made that, n*ggas gave you that, b*tch n*gga, it’s a difference (be cool)
n*ggas losin’, we winnin’, want smoke ’cause they in they feelings (f*ck ’em)
one call, i send ’em, swear to god, same night, they spinnin’ (boom)
[chorus: future]
f*ck your album, sh*t ain’t slappin’ like my mixtape (f*ck your album)
i’m gettin’ saudi arabia money, servin’ oil*based (what’s happenin’?)
rob a rapper and say my name, get his chain back (pluto)
my b*tch cheat on me, i find out, get her chain sn*tched (woo)
thousand grams on a cuban, bought a few blocks (one hundred)
hustler of the century, ordered up a few drops
park a ferrari in the trenches, feel like 2pac (grr)
bought a patek for my b*tch, she signed to death row (suge)

[verse 2: future & tee grizzley]
my b*tch cheat on me, i swear, i might just get her robbed (yeah)
n*ggas like us, f*ck with us, zone 6 the mob (woo)
get you cross*eyed in them trenches, n*gga, i’m a god (swear to god)
you ain’t steppin’ like my lil’ n*gga, i swear to god (swear to god)
kriss vec’s, thirty*five shots, swear to god (swear)
d*gg*n’ hoes like i’m michael, n*gga, i swear to god (michael vick)
billie jean, diamonds dancin’ on me, swear to god (swear)
fettuccine on you, they tearin’ you up, swear to god (swear to god)
got a team full of shooters, n*gga, i swear to god (god)
ain’t gon’ calm these n*ggas down, man, i swear to god (swear to god, woo)
i can’t turn down for nothin’, n*gga, i swear to god (turn up)
i’ma make a billion off finessin’, n*gga, i swear to god (god)

[chorus: future]
f*ck your album, sh*t ain’t slappin’ like my mixtape (f*ck your album)
i’m gettin’ saudi arabia money, servin’ oil*based (what’s happenin’?)
rob a rapper and say my name, get his chain back (pluto)
my b*tch cheat on me, i find out, get her chain sn*tched (woo)
thousand grams on a cuban, bought a few blocks (one hundred)
hustler of the century, ordered up a few drops
park a ferrari in the trenches, feel like 2pac (grr)
bought a patek for my b*tch, she signed to death row (suge)

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