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warner bros - 24lik & 392 lil head lyrics

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[intro: 392 lil head]
cashgang
24 sh*t

[verse 1: 392 lil head]
your b*tch came in a lyft, but she came for a train
call me dugg, i don’t wanna f*ck, she came for the gang
i woke up drunk still with stains on my bape
you do whatever the ho say, you a slave with a cape (ham)
you woulda thought i sprained my ankle, b*tch, i’m on brace (f*ck the opps)
my b*tch gave hula hoop, she ain’t got no waist (thick as h*ll)
this n*gga lik crashed the ‘cat, man, he so laced (ayy, what the f*ck?)
i seen your b*tch, you got corona, ain’t got no taste (covid)
we put your mans on a shirt, we on wanted posters
me and three b*tches make a movie, yeah, warner brothers
we got the city cliquin’ up, don’t even know еach other (at all)
b*tch tryna cuddle while shе bleedin’, ho, this ain’t a slumber (f*ck?), naw
yeah, b*tch, you gotta get out
i wouldn’t dare slide with you, heard you got a big mouth
you might not be a rat, boy, but you a big mouse (you a rat)
just had a famous b*tch on linwood with her tits out

[verse 2: 24lik]
he done blacked his b*tch eye ’cause she eyein’ me
the weed haunted, when i’m off this trey, i’m seein’ zombies
i don’t wanna f*ck the b*tch if she ain’t a dime piece (bye)
when i’m in the club, i be sprayin’ the hoes with dom p (shh)
boy, your ass cap, you need to be wearin’ a don c (cappin’*ass boy)
we can be in livonia, boy, i’m still shootin’ on camera (doo*doo*doo)
yeah, you bought that b*tch a truck, but i rammed her (dumbass)
my white boy throw bullets, adam sandler (grrat)
i be in your b*tch head like some dandruff (i’m all in her sh*t)
f*ck that n*gga tatted on you, i’ll shoot him off your skin (boom*boom*boom*boom*boom)
better move when this b*tch bust, .223s knock off limbs (frrt)
smoke a n*gga boots and i ain’t talkin’ ’bout no timbs (he outta there)
but i be knockin’ b*tches’ boots, she ran her mouth to her friends (this b*tch messy as h*ll)
[verse 3: fwc big key]
yeah, i smacked your b*tch down, but it was not raw (john cena)
boy, we known for bendin’, swingin’ metal like we topgolf (topgolf)
after i f*ck and get the head, you get dropped off
doggy said i gotta make the food like some hot sauce (that’s it)
you gon’ rob who? boy, that sh*t for the birds
love money, i ain’t got no limit like i’m herb
me and izzo both f*cked, b*tch, you gang now (you 24)
you get shot at every week, boy, you dame house
this sh*t crazy, she sucked gang d*ck with the same mouth
lonnie my brother, on that road, we take the same route
boy, i got thrust, she gon’ let me f*ck, i don’t need to ask (at all)
tell your mans to chill out before i treat his ass
innocent, showin’ my b*tch off, she a neimans bag (what’s up, bae?)
my b*tch face cold as h*ll, she don’t need an ass (boy)

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