King Von

Broke Opps
DJ on the beat so it's a banger Von Pull up and get him That bullet ripped through his tissue and tore out his gristle It was the nickel, and it's a Glock And that bitch sound like a missile He know I'm official Doin' all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I'ma get you And wasn't nobody with him I wore a nine, the shoes, ain't nobody fit 'em I popped a Perky and thirty I'm havin' a bitch, boy, ain't nobody perfect If I take a L, I'm back on that corner I'm hustlin', ain't nobody servin' Get booked 'cause somebody workin' He told, I know that for certain Get caught, I'm closin' his curtains We scored another conversion Designer, Givenchy All of this ice on my wrist and it feel like it's Christmas Speakin' of Christmas, come get your ho I be climbin' all up in her chimney We sharin' the ho if she friendly Ain't see him, he goin', he missin' Letras de cancionesWon't see me in the back of a Bentley Hop out and I'm blowin', it's rented Woke up, ain't doin' no drive-bys Your MVP bitch, that bitch my sideline Just a wild lil' nigga from the South side Nigga killed your homie, you don't even come outside I fucked your bitch on purpose Them bros come in, we workin' My song come on, she twerkin' All the opps be broke, they hurtin' My niggas, they too official Send a text, they get right with you Y'all was somewhere playin' Monkey in the Middle We was tryna pull up for some guns when I was little If we still allowed, we gon' meet 'em and then split 'em On the jail call, gotta talk in the riddle Ho said she love me, she gon' tap my initials Nigga move foul, get to blowin' like a whistle Fuck that, let's talk about Louis, Amiri, and Gucci and Prada and shit When I go to the store, they closin' the door and they bringin' me bottles and shit Fuck that, let's talk about that lil' one-fifty I spent with my lawyer and shit My gun don't punch, it kick Get with this shit or get hit in your shit Pull up and get him That bullet ripped through his tissue and pulled out his gristle It was the nickel, and it's a Glock And that bitch sound like a missile He know I'm official Doin' all that woofin' and shit, boy, you know I'ma get you And wasn't nobody with him I wore a nine, the shoes, ain't nobody fit 'em Woke up, ain't doin' no drive-bys Your MVP bitch, that bitch my sideline Just a wild lil' nigga from the South side Nigga killed your homie, you don't even come outside I fucked your bitch on purpose Them bros come in, we workin' My song come on, she twerkin' All the opps be broke, they hurtin' From Letras Mania