Tommy Wright III — Manslaughter

9 июля, 2022 Mr. Good tommy wright

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[Hook: Tommy Wright]
Get that motherfucka, get that motherfucka get him
Get that motherfucka, get that motherfucka get him
Get that motherfucka, get that motherfucka get him
Get that motherfucka, get that motherfucka, get his busta ass get him
Dump him in my trunk, drag him to the river
Dump him in my trunk, drag him to the river
Dump him in my trunk, drag him to the river
Dump him in my trunk, drag him to the river

[2-Faced]
Wakin’ up early in the mornin’, straight up joanin’
Gotta get full ah them drugs, leavin’ them nigga wid slugs
Compliments of 2-faced nigga the thug
It ain’t no love, I told you before
So lemon ass niggas get filled up wid lead
Get caught by surprise, come duck and be tried
He instantly die, bullet wound to the head
Blood gotta shed, when I load up my rifle
A sniper deliverin’ lead to your dome
Shot been inflicted, wid doses of pimpin’
I hang in South Memphis, but hell is my home
Home wid them killas, my nigga cap peelers
Gravediggas remember, my temper is short
Snortin’ cocaine, it’s fuckin’ up my brain
My mind is maintained, by devious thoughts
Keepin’ a weapon of any ill threat
That’s suckas who stepping, and clickin and pullin
My roadie be killin’ cap peelin’, drug dealin’
Two villain, no feelin’ for snitches who nosey
Givin’ out clout to them clock of a dolla straight bought ’em
I saw them wid triggas I sawed ’em
No mercy for niggas,I’m out to make figgas
I’m leavin’ ’em in rivers, so bodies gettin’ hauled off
I thought of a plan, to murder a man
And get away clean, wid the money and dope
The tragedy I will leave
Will be like fatally
Tied the two to the tree, put ’em up in my smoke
Full ah that fuckin’ blow, rippin’ a forty-four
Chief as I cough, and throw up on them mega blunts
Niggas who flodgin’, get broke when I’m robbin’
So suckas start dodgin’, or get put up in my trunk

[Project Pimp]
Pistol grip forty-four in my hand, ten wanted men got a masta plan
Chasin’ that bitch till she run outta breath
Bullets don’t stop he gon’ meet his damn death
Put him in a ditch, deep in the ground
Burnin’ em, if you got some gas
Smackin’ him with that forty-four bitch
Finger on trigger keep tellin’ me blast
Nuthin’ but this thang, everyday thang
Killin’ niggas, doggin’ hoes
Ten wanted men once again wid a bang
Project Pimp I’m shootin’ them tones
Hangin’ out at the door wid the dope forty-four pistol
And vamp wid the gin on the seat and I’m pullin’ the triggers
That leave his ass cuz, Project Pimp ah psycho thug

[T-Dawg]
Man T-Dawg in the joint once again
For the nine-six Street Smart bumpin’ that shit
Leavin’ these niggas fucked up, whopped up wid that thirty Ought six bitch
Cappin’ and snatchin’ these killas drug dealers cap peelers
We out for your gravy hoe
Ten wanted men on a mission wid murder shit
That bitch got your casket closed
Creepin’ slow, on the floor, on a hoe
Lookin’ for the trick, wid the riches up in this thang
Strapped like Jack wid a click in my back
In the getaway van, ready to blast
Body bags, on the ground, I’m leavin’ these niggas for them folks
Man T-Dawg I’m outty five but another nigga casket closed

[Tini]
Creepin’ to the scene in a glimpse, never seen
Disappear, like a ghost in the wind it’s me
T to the I to the N to the I to the M-A-I-N-E, Tini
Pockets feelin’ broke so I gotta make a stang
On a lemon mane that’s got me fucked up the game
Comin’ from the dark so I bust your heart
Wid the seven Jason masks gimme all the cash hit the gas
Smack and kick your bitch up the side her head then cuff her
Time to gag her wid the Tommy Hilfiger that I snatched up off yo bitch
Tie your hands behind your back
Get the oxy vogues from the window out the ‘Lac
Chiefin’ on another sac I got another plan
Hit the stach pot cheese and dope
His boy was finna blow, we left him on the floor
Smack him one more time before we go
Hopped into the Chevy thang let me throw up again
As the green, let me think, Tini five, no I strive
How that like that ain’t no way that ain’t no good
But I can’t afford to make no losses Jason mask ain’t this a bitch
Makin niggas jealous so they scopin’ me, bloody Glock is in my hand
Perry Ellis smellin’ like a lucci, quarter ounce a dope is in the air
Brothers can’t stand the truth playa robbers creepin’ from the east
Prepared
Glock seventeen lookin’ mean, as release, cock it back
Spittin rounds out the side to the ground
Did ya, did ya get him?, yes I got him
As I tired ah bustin’ scatter creep ya knees to the back to the Ground
Thinkin’ of a scheme it’s a dream it’s for real lay him dead
Mr. Tini maine ya shouldn’ta crossed me out
Forty-five Gs, six kill a pound a weed, two other trees
Manslaughter, Tini five I’m in the house

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Текст Tommy Wright III — Manslaughter

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