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Dubs Outweigh Losses - Ysr gramz & Krispylife Kidd Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: Y ysr gramz krispylife kidd | Published: 2024-23-09T19:10:44:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Dubs Outweigh Losses - Ysr gramz & Krispylife Kidd Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Dubs Outweigh Losses - Ysr gramz & Krispylife Kidd Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton Y ysr gramz krispylife kidd. 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 Dubs Outweigh Losses - Ysr gramz & Krispylife Kidd Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro]
f*ck the fire, we got greese
it’s a wayne beat

[verse 1: ysr gramz]
this n*gga think he drinking real drank, but the wok fake
you the n*gga getting n*ggas locked, ’cause the cops ain’t
she asked me was this gun real? na, the glock fake
i heard these n*ggas out here backdooring, so i ride with drac
i’m in the car with krispylife, so i ride with k
n*gga, i’m still out here grinding, that’s why i rock with ray
b*tch skinny but her p*ssy big, coi leray
i’m out here dropping [?] off a n*gga, i’m in the stu at 8
i’m out here looking for a headhunter [?] my d*ck [?]
we gon’ shoot the f*ck out that n*gga, ’cause he 6/8
how you out here trapping? you don’t know what a brick weigh
f*ck around and drop a 41, yeah, big face
my n*gga kidd just hit a dirty b*tch, now his d*ck stank
my lil n*gga a young thug, he think he rich gang
don’t give a f*ck, shoot my opp at a pistins’ game
hit him with this glock, we turned him up, gave his ass some fame
i know you got some money, but the hoes really think you lame
we finna set him up, this n*gga think he gang
i probably miss with this glock, i won’t miss with k
it’s gon’ take a hundred boes, you wanna get this way
[verse 2: krispylife kidd]
dubs outweigh the losses
the back of my shoe say off white, [?] walking
so many straps round this b*tch, you gotta move with caution
my n*ggas licenced up to shoot you, they don’t do the charges
you want me to talk spicey, ok, then pay that
n*gga can’t [?] sh*t, i’m where he lay at
my lap is where your b*tch face at
you could never f*ck with none of us, n*gga, yeah, them straight facts
the baby glock make you [?] like it’s a pint of tech
got a freaky b*tch [?] tap
really smoking zas on this [?] pack
i really don’t wanna rap with you, bro, ’cause you kinda ass
i don’t pass gramz the wood, he eat all kind of ass
why the f*ck is you doing that?
technically, this a hundred [?] flip it [?]
you a lame n*gga with some cheese, you [?] rats
i’m around all solid n*ggas, i don’t fool with rats
talking greese on a greese beat, [?] got me too atached
you can’t f*ck with me and my caidence
this some bullsh*t [?] police [?]
feeling like yella beezy, all outa favors
your trap ain’t doing no trapping, you outa flavors
you [?] long time, you [?]
you [?] putting your parents in danger
[?] lot on these, just to f*ck ’em up out in traffic
never going to my crib, make them suck me up out in trafic
paid 2 k for this pistol, the f*ck i’ma do [?]
dawg tryna eat healthy, he’d die for salid

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