lirik lagu comments – brokeasf
[intro]
b*tch
[chorus]
he keep talkin’ in them comments, f*ck it, drop a bag on him
send my stepper where you sleep, i bet my shorty smash on him
put a f*ckin’ tag on him, big gl!ck with a f*ckin’ flash on him
he want smoke, foenem smoked his ass and put some ash on him
[verse 1]
b*tch, i know you sad, i know you mad, i know you p*ssed off (b*tch)
talkin’ out his ass like he bad, knock his sh*t off (what?)
foenem on your ass, bodybags, don’t get sent off (boom, boom, boom)
bustin’ at they whip, reload the clip, and knock the tint off (ah)
b*tch, you know we swervin’, we be wreckin’, ain’t no lettin’ off (b*tch)
p*ssy b*tch, don’t play, i up that ray and send your blessings up (huh?)
i will never lay, was born to spray, b*tch, i ain’t restin’ up (b*tch)
swear that sh*t there crazy, on the daily i be textin’ her (boom, boom, boom)
he say that b*tch his baby, that’s fugazi, i be sledgin’ her (f*ck nah)
n*ggas think they hot just like a pot until we wet ’em up (b*tch)
we got h*lla shots and h*lla knots and we got thots for days (boom, boom, boom)
foenem off them pills, tryna drill, b*tch, you get shot today
[chorus]
he keep talkin’ in them comments, f*ck it, drop a bag on him
send my stepper where you sleep, i bet my shorty smash on him
put a f*ckin’ tag on him, big gl!ck with a f*ckin’ flash on him
he want smoke, foenem smoked his ass and put some ash on him
[verse 2]
i be jiggin’ in that b*tch, i got that thirty mag on me (boom)
in his head when it’s pressure, thirty rounds in my sweater (what?)
glizzy glizzy, no beretta, pull up on you and i pop that metal (boom, boom)
gon’ get my d*ck sucked and smoke on a backwood and count this cheddar
you know you just act hood, boy, you really ain’t that hood, boy, you gotta do better
you know that we clap hoods and we loopin’ right back and we spinnin’ just like a lil’ presser (brrt, boom)
glock on mute, it got a suppressor (shh)
pull up and shoot, skrrt off in a tesla (skrrt)
boom, baow, knock a p*ssy off for actin’ like he special
b*tch, we reckless, i ain’t tryna hear no preachin’ or no lecture (f*ck nah)
i ain’t f*ckin’ with no bop, i get the top and i don’t text her (b*tch)
b*tch, we got lots of sticks, no pot to p*ss, spin your block, we poppin’ sh*t
we poppin’ gl!cks, ain’t poppin’ zits, big bro done taught me not to miss
[chorus]
he keep talkin’ in them comments, f*ck it, drop a bag on him
send my stepper where you sleep, i bet my shorty smash on him
put a f*ckin’ tag on him, big gl!ck with a f*ckin’ flash on him
he want smoke, foenem smoked his ass and put some ash on him (b*tch)
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