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lirik lagu stoned out my napper – blazer boccle

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[verse]
talking is one thing you never do with the feds
never let ’em know what we do with the z’s
i told my baby girl what to do with her head
then she can get hit with bamboo in her leg
i score points, more points than you prove with your threats
i went to see my mum and she was shampooing her dreads
you’ve got room for improvement, me i’ve got a room full of skets
no room for regrets and with all due respect
i think i’m due me a cheque with a lot of commas
my man are propеr on it, that’s just common knowledge
i’m tryna make it to thе top and top it off by getting top
off all the models at the top, i’m just a topaholic
them man are in the gym with their anabolics
while i’m in my bubble jacket thinking that i’m solid
and my phone line rings cause of gramaholics
everything i spit is sick just like a bag of vomit
but what you say, n0body can corroborate
if i make a crime scene, i’m gonna do it properly
make sure all the coppers have to use all their copper tape
give it him the proper way, hit him till he’s not awake
hit gyal every time of the month except for the period they ovulate
girl i’ve got needs that i need you to accommodate
so i’ll take you on a date, put that p*ssy on a plate
i could never let a woman be the one that got away
i think i need a holiday, life’s like monopoly so i’m not tryna live it moderate
so i sell a lot of flake and i get a lot of hate
cause everything i do, i have to dominate
every time i speak about the trap, i always positively connotate
but i’m positively sure that it’s not a place that you would wanna stay
i’m tryna take it to the max like holloway, rap and trap and robberies
make stacks, skinny, no six pack
thick hat and a big jacket like big shaq
i know i nicked that, teach my n*gga how to whip crack
he told us where this divvy keeps a big batch
that’s where he lives at, run up in the yard in a thick mask
no it’s not a kidnap, i just wanna know where the quids at
big lad, one big bat will make your kid nap
think fast, now you’re thinking if you wanna risk that
i be in the whip banging digdat
but i be in my air max, bubble or i kick back
kick back with a piff pack, f*ck the chitchat
cl!ck clack, that’ll make your clique backtrack
now that’s that, got a bad b*tch on my snapchat
little lip filler and her back’s fat
so i had to tap that but i’ma be frank like rat pack
i hit it from the back and it sounds like clap clap
cause all my b*tches suck my d*ck and they know not to pause
my n*gga’s got a drug habit like boston george
he signed on the line so you can tick a box of raw
if you flop you lose your life, that’s called a mobster clause
buss shots at you and your entourage
surrounded by convicts that don’t conversate
cause they’re tryna concentrate on how they can conquer all
beef costs p but you don’t have the cost to cause
open your eyes mush, i’ve got the sauce
you’ve got a name but we forgot what you done got it for
all my n*ggas on the weed like a brontosaur
and if you war us, you gon’ feel that bom bom bom
if you saw us chilling with some girls, know it’s all love
but they’re almost all sl*ts, hit it then they walk but they don’t ever call us
we just call up when we wanna have our b*lls sucked
babe i’m not a player, that’s just what the girls call us
i seen your gang on the gram getting called scruffs, that’s awful
my n*ggas got big waps and they’re all full
i’m a goat, you’re a sheep man, you’re all wool
bradford resident, rap game president
opp boy cheffing ’em, i keep on telling ’em
what’s a drug if it an’t got a dealer selling ’em?
what good’s a shotgun if you ain’t put a sh*ll in ’em?

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