Vintage Velour - Xavy rusan Lyrics
By: Admin | Artist: X xavy rusan | Published: 2024-25-09T19:22:45:00+07:00
Lirikku.ID - Vintage Velour - Xavy rusan Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Vintage Velour - Xavy rusan Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton X xavy rusan. 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 Vintage Velour - Xavy rusan Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.[intro]
ay, ay
yeah, look, hey
[verse 1]
see ’em leachin’ for the energy
i ain’t worried, give a f*ck about the enemy
beat his ass, got ’em thinkin’ there was ten of me
that’s why tonight i’m on the weed, not the hennessy
n*ggas lyin’ but i tell you how it really be
droppin’ game i could sprinkle for infinity
i’m the player of the year if i do say
’cause i treat a sat*rday like a tuesday
came thru with the sauce for the soul food
eat good, smoke great, that’s a whole mood
see ’еm hatin’ but i’m workin’ on my own mood
save a lot but i’m shoppin’ at the whole foods
wholе time, half time for the smoke break
intermission from the mission for the long cake
laced up, rope chain got my tongue*tied
top*down, titties out, let ’em sundry
i’m that n*gga and i said it ’fore i had proof
can’t believe it ’til they see it, that’s the sad truth
[chorus]
ay, i be outta town, outta time, outta blunt wraps (outta time, outta blunt wraps, ay)
you be outta line, outta bounds, outta comebacks (outta bounds, outta comebacks, oh, yessir)
i be outta town, outta time, where the thugs at? (outta time, where the thugs at? yeah)
you be tellin’ lies in your rhymes, where your funds at? (in your rhymes, where your funds at*ay)
ay
[verse 2]
mailbox money in my real name
n*ggas thirty years old and they still lame
tryna kick it in the h like a field goal
touch down with finesse, that’s a heel*toe
look, f*ck what you thought, n*gga, think better
sundress, no drawls, got the seat wetter
got my suede jumpsuit for the windchill
hot girl but she blowin’ like a windmill
truly i ain’t gotta flex for the routine
too clean with a plate full of poutine
n*gga worryin’ ’bout me can’t help you
way better when it’s heard and it’s felt too
get my weed from the west, gold from the south
show ’em how to make them triple o’s from the couch
n*gga countin’ on luck ain’t a life plan
i’ma have the last laugh for a life span
[chorus]
ay, i be outta town, outta time, outta blunt wraps (outta time, outta blunt wraps, ay)
you be outta line, outta bounds, outta comebacks (outta bounds, outta comebacks, oh, yessir)
i be outta town, outta time, where the thugs at? (outta time, where the thugs at? yeah)
you be tellin’ lies in your rhymes, where your funds at? (in your rhymes, where your funds*ay)
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