03 Greedo, Whokid Woody — Lame

Слушать 03 Greedo, Whokid Woody — Lame

Текст 03 Greedo, Whokid Woody — Lame

03
Purple Summer
Ron-Ron do that shit
We ridin’, we ridin’, we ridin’, we ridin’

I’ma lay a nigga down, four hundred pounds
Straight up out the Jordan Downs, I got a hundred rounds
Drummer Gang, a hundred shell cases hit the ground
There go the peoples at the door, be quiet, don’t make a sound

Throw your hood up for who put up and who restin’ in peace
Sellin’ water to the Mexicans, we don’t have a beef
Marijuana, I been blessing niggas with OT
And when you sellin’ kilos, gotta stay lowkey
I got homies sharin’ baby mamas, rollin’ the weed
Purple Summer, 03 the new 400 Degreez
I feel like Ron-Ron the Producer just like Manny to me
Fuck them evil ass bitches steady passin’ the weed
What you need bitch? you need a project nigga
Drummer Gang shit, everybody pullin’ triggers
Enemies might fuck your bitch and lock up with your sister
I’ma be the first real nigga with a Fisker
Don’t trust her, don’t trust shit
He swear he mafia but he be on some fuck shit
I might shoot you from a rental or a bucket
Hate on niggas, when you see ’em, switch the subject
Tired of rappers tryna hit the hood and take a pic
Wanna come out to the jungle and not get bit
The other day I hit sweet lady with that donkey dick
Don’t you pop it bitch, fuck it, pop that pussy
Fuck it, smokin’ cookies, fuck central booking
When 03 be in the projects, everybody looking
Never nook it, they can’t wait ’til nigga’s life get tooken
I’m from where my peoples crazy and the cops is crooked

I’ma lay a nigga down, four hundred pounds
Straight up out the Jordan Downs, I got a hundred rounds
Drummer Gang, a hundred shell cases hit the ground
There go the peoples at the door, be quiet, don’t make a sound

Be quiet, tonight is the night that we ride
Pull up in the hood and see choppers inside
You need a project nigga
Be quiet, tonight is the night that we ride
Pull up in the hood and see choppers inside
Be quiet, all of my Drummers, they be firin’

I’ma lay a nigga down, four hundred pounds
Straight up out the Jordan Downs, I got a hundred rounds
Drummer Gang, a hundred shell cases hit the ground
There go the peoples at the door, be quiet, don’t make a sound