EsDeeKid

Mist
O-kay, o-kay, o-kay Ayy, ayy, EsDee (O-) La-la-lad, I'm riding with your bitch Got a 10z in me pocket and bottle full of Tris' Five racks in the bank, put it all up on me wrist Never fucking with a lame, won't be riding in the mist, nah (Mist) Lad, I'm riding with your bitch Got a 10z in me pocket and bottle full of Tris' Five racks in the bank, put it all up on me wrist Never fucking with a lame, won't be riding in the mist, nah (Mist) Night time and I'm creeping through the mansion Black gems on my neck, stay dancin' Birds hit me line spawn kill, stop, camp them Backstage pass cause' I'm young and I'm handsome Got long black hair like an emo (Emo) Drugs all-white, albino Rolling the walls and I fill it with the green, bro Ice on my neck, stay cold, sub-zero (O-kay) Members-only, you won't makе it on the guest list Shout loud, make thе crowd think I'm reckless Chrome on my wrist, check pendant for the necklace Young Scouse kid, make it sound like I'm from Texas (Okay) Rocking like a star, coke for breakfast Letras de cancionesCartier necklace, Kush I'm obsessed with it Outside and we're posted with the members Pack landed, tellin' rkid, "Don't mess with it" We got tons of different flavours, we love getting in Came in the rave, pop pills and I'm settling Only eighteen, labels screaming "Gotta get him in" Beef, no I keep the metal in my hand like wedding ring Ten girls on my body, I'm feeling rich today Ten girls on my body, my girl gon' crash out Put white in my city, it turned to Kraków My girl still get scared when I turn Snap maps off in the trap house (O-kay) He's lit but I ain't clockin; him All amped up, stand up, Christ Rock'ing it Peckish 'til I'm dead, Rick Ross with it Lunch time, pop Sprite, gotta mix Wock' with it (Okay) La-la-lad, I'm riding with your bitch Got a 10z in me pocket and bottle full of Tris' Five racks in the bank, put it all up on me wrist Never fucking with a lame, won't be riding in the mist, nah (Mist, okay) Lad, I'm riding with your bitch Got a 10z in me pocket and bottle full of Tris' Five racks in the bank, put it all up on me wrist Never fucking with a lame, won't be riding in the mist, nah (Mist) From Letras Mania