$uicideBoy$, Ramirez, Black Smurf — Loot
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Текст $uicideBoy$, Ramirez, Black Smurf — Loot
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
I got money on my mind
Bitch, I’m blinded by the dollar signs
I’ll work a fucking 9 to 5 instead of signing dotted lines
By 9 to 5 I mean I’ve come to paint the town grey with 5 fucking 9’s
I’m trying to take what’s mine
Which happens to be everything that I see
Might be selfish of me
But, if I don’t pick a side someone else is getting cash and pine
Dine and dash
Scraps is rationed
Slash and gash
Scratching rashes
Catching rats and slash its throat
End up like a maxi pad soaked
Two-Eleven, One-Eight-Seven
Send them bustas straight to heaven
If that nigga talking shit, then he gon’ meet my Smith and Wesson
Creeping out the fucking darkness
Smurking all these bustas ho’
Fucking with the Devil son I rolls up on the flank fosho
Psychopathic lunatic I’m looking for a soul to steal
I put that Glock up to yo’ grill and watch yo’ punk ass fucking split
Look into my eyes see the thang that burns inside
Fucking with that Triple Six nigga, this will be your demise
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Haven’t had to kill yet but I was born a murderer
Triple 6 my nation I’m the red devil’s chosen one
Break in through the back
Give a fuck bout your burglar bars
When I was 17 remember when we would burglar cars
My favorite gun that .45
I love how it bust
Smoke leaking out your chest
Body stuffed in the trunk
I’m ridin’ round in Hollygrove
Best believe I got that strap
Can’t fuck with you bitches but Oddy got my back
Still on that killa klan
Creep up behind shit
Memphis made a nigga so you know I’m used to violence
I feel you’re owed for slugs
Come play a thug
Automatic to his chest have him coughing up a lung
Catch a blast
May flood the cash
It be ya ass
Think fast for that four fifth
Lay ya in the grass
One-shot
Turned into ash
So Quick and fast
No joke
My nigga’s soaked
Stay out my path
Nigga
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood
Where they ride clean
Stang-stangin’ like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
