Sickboyrari — infrared (Country Boys )

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Текст Sickboyrari — infrared (Country Boys )

[Intro]
I don’t think it’s lookin’ too good for ’em, yeah (Phew, phew)
It’s not… looking good
Damn, damn, damn
Stickin’

[Hook]
Stickin’ like glue, know I’m stickin’ like red
I’m in the coupe with a infrared
Know we gon’ ride for the gang, it’s on [?]
Five bankrolls in my pants, skinny legs
Dead presidents so I hang with the dead
Sick Gang shit, put that fire to yo head
(Sick Gang shit with that fire, we bring that flame)
Stickin’ like glue, know I’m stickin’ like red
I’m in the coupé with a infrared
Know we gon’ ride for the gang, it’s on [?]
Five bankrolls in my pants, skinny legs
Dead presidents so I hang with the dead
Sick Gang shit, put that fire to yo head

[Verse 1]
Hop in the coupé, shit bloody red
Free my cuz, send him home from the feds
Hanging on top, yeah, on top like the man
Sipping on green, he ain’t got no red
Guard on my dogs, sittin’ like some pets
Smokin’ on yo shit, got me on left
Talk shit, bust with a try, left [?]
I don’t need a arm, my cuz gon’ hit
I dont need a arm, my cuz gon shoot
No sticking, I don’t need no glue
With my tongue, I ain’t got no cool
G1’s on my feet but I’m with the boot
Sky high, I don’t need no roof (No roof, yeah-yeah)
All I need is Yahweh and my troops
(And the fans too)

[Hook]
Stickin’ like glue, know I’m stickin’ like red
I’m in the coupé with a infrared
Know we gon’ ride for the gang, it’s on [?]
Five bankrolls in my pants, skinny legs
Dead presidents so I hang with the dead
Sick Gang shit, put that fire to yo head
(Ooh)
Stickin’ like glue, know I’m stickin’ like red
I’m in the coupé with a infrared
Know we gon’ ride for the gang, it’s on [?] (Brrt)
Five bankrolls in my pants, skinny legs
Dead presidents so I hang with the dead
Sick Gang shit, put that fire to yo head

[Verse 2]
Hop in the coupé, shit bloody red
Singing shit, put that fire to his head
Emo racks, stack them up to my legs
Emo racks, stack them up to my knees
That’s my twin, he don’t need ID
Eyeball shot, gon’ need Visine
Trues on me, no Levi jeans
Where the [?] at? That’s my gleen
K.T.S. when we step on the scene
Got it out the mud so the money clean
[?] since [?]
No lockdown, send ’em straight out the cell
You ain’t gotta talk, know how you feel
(Know how you feel)
You ain’t gotta say nun, know how you feel