Print

We in the lab smokin' that good-good Doin' everything hood-hood Hey, man, let me get some weed, nigga Like we should-should Woo Arrh-arrh-arrh-arhh I don't think they ready for this Wild cats Boom boom Meth Lab, second season This how you make a song nigga Ayy, ayy Key to my city, my G is tricky, my tree is sticky Stairway is pissy, the crown they give me don't even fit me (Huh) King me, it's risky, if jiggy get me, I plead the fiffy They'll never snitch me, judge'll convict me, so just acquit me The fuzz against me, I'm butter-slippery, they think I'm shifty Zero to sixty, it's just a quickie, you blink, you miss me I'm just a fishy, got my bread and my chedda crispy My queen prissy, I kill her dead if she ever quit me These hoes only look good when tipsy, they said I'm picky, that's perfect You done scratched the surface, go 'head and sniff me I'm pushin' fifty, can't find your woman? She pushin' wit' me Was pushin' lifty, the family business was pushin' piffy That pusher in me, I did it gritty, no pretty in me Letras de cancionesI'm pretty trendy, I had to spend me a pretty penny One outta many, last to fend me, too many envy Don't gimmie-gimmie I do it dirty, no shimmy-shimmy It's Hanz-arello but you can 'em Shameek from Belly Method giselle, we comin' out, we gon' catch a felly About the jelly, the P-L-O what we call the deli The Lab we smelly, could smell it all in your Pelle Pelle (Woo) Barq or Cola like refrigerators but ain't no Perry Careful fuckin' with regulators across the ferry It's necessary, I gotta bury my adversary These niggas scary, we commandeering this commissary This shit is manly, a little somethin', so don't get weary Wild cats from Missouri, I be your judge and jury I love a girly who get it poppin', you'll feel the fury We tellin' Siri to call the pigs to come get near me (C'mon) Hit a killer to be a killer but ain't no skelly Pissin' on 'em, we shittin' on 'em, but no R. Kelly Speakin' country to country, grammar, but ain't no Nelly Once upon a- from Shaolin wit' no Shkreli Yow, We them wild cats You don't want that dope, we keep slangin' 'til it's right on your Coach, come on Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at? I got 'em right in my scope, leave 'em dead 'til I turn 'em ghosts, you know? Yow, we them wild cats You don't want that smoke, we ain't rich, so we goin' for broke, nigga Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at? We fittin' to go at they throats You must be a kiddin' tryna go with at the goats Come on Yo, when I ain't sober, I'm bi-polar, invite me over Doc be dumpin' his ashes in your baby stroller When I was young I ate paint, lead, with quarter waters Now Red red linin' the Range Rover motor I smoke west of the border, your bud outta order I go apeshit, I'm a Caesar with a little Koba Tell your boss I'm the opposite of a Trump voter Yo dude, this wild cat not from Villanova I'm in the cut, like a buck fifty, I Tony Toka Your side piece, I'ma poke her and then I adios her My hood house on the block, we real estate brokers We make it sound like Forth of July in October The Bricks, Tommy Motolla, yeah, I'm a high-roller I write the crack that'll bring back Lamar Odom That girl got good brains, I know she got diplomas She fuckin' with a Goodfella, Ray Liotta I'm kind of a big deal, I'm from the killin' hill You shackin' a fool, barbeque chicken on the grill I'm not your run of the mill, so play your peep skills I hope your girl's on the pill 'cause she's a cheap thrill We shoot to kill, blood spill for that dollar bill Your body parts'll be landfilled in Potter's Field You ain't really real, you bust when pressure build Like steel water in pipes when the winter chill My Louieville slugger, I call it Lucille See Lucy Lou, you like Kill Bill, the kid's ill The doc fillet 'em like veal, you see his last meal Your brains spill on your duck bill when caps peeled Might rupture my Achille heel chasin' this hunnid mills Streetlife, I'm hard to kill, call me the man of steel Real recognize real, I got mass appeal You Massengil, you all ass like Tip Drill Yow, We them wild cats You don't want that dope, we keep slangin' 'til it's right on your Coach, come on Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at? I got 'em right in my scope, leave 'em dead 'til I turn 'em ghosts, you know? Yow, we them wild cats You don't want that smoke, we ain't rich, so we goin' for broke, nigga Where the Bricks & Staten Isle at? We fittin' to go at they throats You must be a kiddin' tryna go at the goats Come on From Letras Mania