Trillmatic (Freestyle) - Young Chris Paroles , lyrics

Paroles de Trillmatic (Freestyle) de Young Chris

Trillmatic (Freestyle) est une chanson de Young Chris pour laquelle les paroles ont été ajoutées le 23/01/2014.

Les paroles de Trillmatic (Freestyle) ont fait l'objet d'une relecture, cependant, il est possible que se cachent toujours des fautes. N'hésitez pas à me contacter par mail.

Vous pouvez écouter la chanson de Young Chris avec la vidéo ci-dessous.

Fuck yall
Yo, uh

Different type dance when they rhyming
Black mamba, Kobe of Deanthony Thomas
I'm back at it, bad bitch right in the waist
Blackmatic, hittin niggas right in the face
First 48, somebody is givin tips off
Leavin every shell, you tell we givin clips off
Wing a hawken, every day that thing is poppin
They can't resist it, go to clubs and bring the block in
Load the stock and act up, we pull a stock out
Get to plottin, get the trap at 8 o'clock out
I keep a 40 in in my 34s
Strap twice when you fuck around with these dirty whores
I got 970, need 30 more
Get out of line with mines, and I'mma murder yours
Big daddy, caine baby, I serve the raw
Both checked, diamond Thomas wearin the 34
Never heard before, Philly niggas they know the ball
Got the biggest auxiliary when we go to war
Niggas droppin, got aware, they go to store
Bitch who wearin painted memories when they go troit
Stuff the DOA, bank roll that BOA
They tell me gunner keep comin, you gon see yo day
I tell my mama and daughter that it's gon be okay
It's better this than lockdown and be away
Nigga never fold, they suck dick and sell they soul
And mix it up and switch it up when they tell they hoes
I was 19, wearin platinum and sellin gold
16, niggas seen it in me, tell em hoe
They can see I'm hot, naked bitches it's on a yacht
I'm lovin this cus nah, niggas was on the block
Sellin rock? Duckin cops and duckin shots
They tell me gunner let's get it, now turn it up a notch
Keep the fiends comin, keep pushin that drink comin
On this court, fans talked in, it means something
Let get the chop, niggas dead, I swear to God
You punk fair, you punk queer, prepare to die
Fuck yall snitches, yall girls is our bitches
Fuck tryin, go get it, nigga and die richer
Yall should take a page out our book
We standin over the stove until it all cooked
This a small rook, suit and tie, cigar look
Fresh fitter, promoters callin, I'm all booked
Until we win, more in the south ride
And get it in til they digging it, bitch I'm alive
Muthafuckas

Just like that, nigga


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