R.I.P. - Prodigy et Raekown et Havoc Paroles , lyrics

Paroles de R.I.P. de Prodigy, Raekown, Havoc

R.I.P. est une chanson de Prodigy, Raekown, Havoc pour laquelle les lyrics ont été ajoutés le 10/07/2013.

Les paroles de R.I.P. ont fait l'objet d'une relecture, cependant, il est probable qu'il y ait toujours des fautes. N'hésitez pas à proposer vos corrections par mail.

Le clip vidéo de R.I.P. est disponible ci-dessous.

Nobody can't stop our rain
I don't bend, I don't break
Too much dough to ever go broke
Too much champagne to use flutes
I'm straight from the bottle like a genie hoop
Grant you death wishes
I don't dance, I just do this
Burn it down, I smell Piff
I post it up
Like an advertisement for a gangsta flick
She like that, I'm smoother
She's used to dudes trying to seduce her
I tell her straight up let's move towards the exit
So I can put her high-heeled shoes up
On the roof of the hard head coupe
She want me for me, and you for loot
You goof troop, I'm all
Throughout the globe, you're a local star
Stay in your lane and get folded
Wrapped up like tour bus promotion
You're a flop, when your album drop
It's like dropping a brick into the ocean

Daytime drama, niggas get soaked
Washed up good, blood stained clothes
I'm OD reckless
Out of left field my team'll just wet this
You ain't gotta like it but respect it
You ain't gotta fight it, just let it
What's good, everything Gucci 'til
I gotta give to them raw like sushi bill
Get his coofie pill
I'm that nigga, bitches choose me still

Left my penthouse with a swollen jaw
I'm everything you can't be it's hopeless
Like a penny with a hole in it, oh shit
Worthless, and I'm just perfect
On purpose, Hav at your service

Any towels out there B?
Bring your album out
Come on B
I'm foul with a gorgeous neck
Dusted and style, a half moon
...protect me
Bruce Lee glasses in the Aston
Sipping a half a glass of Coke
Wile out for last year
Money stronger, Benz longer
Jetting to the Teeter Barrel
Two sprinters along
Ghost catch me in your pocket
Other than that, up in the stockage
Wool ridge jacket on the pop
No funny money, my bunny Colombian
Thick back, grey eyes, and she got no stomach
Pull out the wiper and sweep
Drop it out the window
My kin'll blow you right to sleep
We professionals, grabbing our testicles
Who wanna battle, bring your burners and geckos
I'm sure to have fun on you young niggas
I'm not a hater, or can't stand on my man to man 'em

Note : 1 étoile2 étoiles3 étoiles4 étoiles5 étoiles
Le clip vidéo de R.I.P.
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Autres singles de Havoc

  1. Life We Chose
  2. Camouflage Unicorns
  3. Gone
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