sharc, Pi’erre Bourne—Gang Pop
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Текст sharc, Pi’erre Bourne—Gang Pop
The only thing on the mind of a shark
Is to eat
New
Doing shiesty, snipe him off the bike
Brown skin, In her birkin feisty, icy brightly
She cling cocky with her tongue and make it mighty tighty
Micro, draco tiny but it’s spiking lightning
We been merking shit since [?]
Cuzzo move like he Al Qaeda, shake the ground in Rikers
She ride dick just like a soldier, know she wasn’t frightened
Touch her toes, I bend her over, fuck up her alignment
I make fireworks and rockets burst in your vagina
It’s pitch black, bae, help me guide it once I get inside it
The Benz coupe insane, send that shit to Shutter Island
Yeah, I make the telly smelly, I do Xans in the [?]
And your mans getting glizzied, put this hand on the glick
She [?] on the cock
Bape camo Glock
Shoot it through you [?] filthy
That my Faygo pop
Yeah, them things go
Yeah, the gang gon’ pop
Yeah, them things go pop
Yeah, the gang gon’ pop
Shoot it through you [?] filthy
That my Faygo pop
Yeah, them things go pop
Yeah, the gang gon’ pop
[?] I thought you came from China with this [?]
Tryna approach the bitch polite, the Mary pockets heavy
Someone got hit
Glocky .20, that was not the semi
Headshot
Mommy’s hot spaghetti
My bitch bad like Mary Poppins ’cause she popping [?]
Party jumping, I look at her, it look like she ready
Drive her home in that Tarantula and get the necky
[?] blocks, with some immigrants, the [?]
Thumb first, I be wildin’ with the Glock posse
Rifles, next to bibles, I know god got me
Psycho, if he black out then he split noggins
Put the [?] on your [?] your crib [?]
Yeah, I make the telly smelly, I do Xans in the [?]
And your mans getting glizzied, put this hand on the glick
She [?] on the cock
Bape camo Glock
Shoot it through you [?] filthy
That my Faygo pop
Yeah, them things go
Yeah, the gang gon’ pop
Yeah, them things go pop
Yeah, the gang gon’ pop
Shoot it through you [?] filthy
That my Faygo pop
Yeah, them things go pop
Yeah, the gang gon’ pop
Gang inside the vip, so you [?], you get smoked (I’m with them though)
Trappin’ in the trench, .30 drums and bubble [?] (Drums and bubble [?])
[?] fire shit
She do Chanel, your hoe do COACH
Bitch, I [?], you don’t know shit ’bout Rick Owens (Ain’t know shit ’bout Ricky Owens)
VVS like [?], young boy still play with [?]
I’m in Hollywood, no Uncle Phil, just big dope (Bitch)
Roll my spliff [?] while all the villains stick tote
Cuzzo in the cut, you play with him it’s big smoke (Big smoke)
Yeah, them things go
Yeah, the gang gon’ pop
Yeah, them things go pop
Yeah, the gang gon’ pop
Shoot it through you [?] filthy
That my Faygo pop
Yeah, them things go pop
Yeah, the gang gon’ pop
(Nah, not like that [?], that fake though [?] that shit)
If I don’t go platinum, we robbin’ the Brinks
Draco under my armpit
(Pull the driver down, might got to kill the driver)
Yeah
(Nah, not like that [?], that fake though [?] that shit)
If I don’t go platinum, we robbin’ the Brinks
Draco under my armpit
(Pull the driver down, might got to kill the driver)
Yeah
