*cult* - Terrance escobar Lyrics
By: Admin | Artist: T terrance escobar | Published: 2024-22-09T19:33:11:00+07:00
Lirikku.ID - *cult* - Terrance escobar Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "*cult* - Terrance escobar Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton T terrance escobar. 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 *cult* - Terrance escobar Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.leh’ do it
gang, gang-gang, gang, gang, gang, gang-gang-gang, gang, gang
leh’ do it
had to run my racks up
throw that -ss back baby girl back that -ss up
piped up in this b-tch, with my bl–dy
that’s my plasma
whoadie keep a stick ain’t no jitt
he might blast ya
you speaking to the jury
heard you snitching, sneaky b-st-rd
preaching to these children
b-tch i feel just like a pastor
whipping foreign coupes; i’m the master
fifty chains, mr. t no pity for these b-st-rds
money always speak to me
i need to get it faster
these n-ggas can’t compete with me
you know i’m moving faster
she like, ” you don’t speak to me”
cause’ b-tch you do not matter
she trying to come sleep with me
can’t hold her like my bladder
and i’m stocked up
p-ssy n-gga wanna run up on me
he get glocked up
12 -ss lurking wanna see a n-gga locked up
stayed down i been working
then them bands, yeah they popped up
chiefing on this good dope i feel just like a rasta
all my n-ggas dreaded up they look just like some shottas
pull up we just wet it up, we look just like some mobsters
really i don’t give a f-ck i’m just like my father
had to run my racks up
throw that -ss back baby girl back that -ss up
piped up in this b-tch, with my bl–dy
that’s my plasma
whoadie keep a stick ain’t no jitt
he might blast ya
you speaking to the jury
heard you snitching, sneaky b-st-rd
preaching to these children
b-tch i feel just like a pastor
whipping foreign coupes; i’m the master
fifty chains, mr. t no pity for these b-st-rds
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