lirik lagu postman – chavo & pi’erre bourne
[intro: chavo]
(yo, pi’erre, you wanna come out here?)
yeah
[chorus: chavo]
i got a thicky with me, no vickys on, go run and tell that
i’m rollin’ sticky weed, six thousand a pound, know you can smell that
was runnin’ laps ’round n*ggas all year long, i went and fell back
mr. postman, i wrap ’em and track ’em, i really mail packs
[verse 1: chavo]
uh, i can’t stress about no b*tch, i’m pourin’ trish in simply (nice)
i keep a loaded fn with me, that’s in every city
diamonds dancin’ like they missy, who the most consistent?
private flights land out in lisbon, i can’t do commitment
fenty slide right off her ass, then i’ma jump all in it
nothin’ came back on ballistics, drop that case, dismiss it (gotta drop it)
laughin’ once we heard they packed ’em, they say it’s s*d*stic
a hundred thousand wrapped in plastic, you know it’s official (yеs)
[chorus: chavo]
i got a thicky with me, no vickys on, go run and tell that
i’m rollin’ sticky weed, six thousand a pound, know you can smell that
was runnin’ laps ’round n*ggas all yеar long, i went and fell back
mr. postman, i wrap ’em and track ’em, i really mail packs
i got a thicky with me, no vickys on, go run and tell that
i’m rollin’ sticky weed, six thousand a pound, know you can smell that
was runnin’ laps ’round n*ggas all year long, i went and fell back
mr. postman, i wrap ’em and track ’em, i really mail packs
[verse 2: veeze]
b*tch, i’m in the navy, the feds only thing we run from (yeah)
i can’t love no b*tch ’cause the players the ones i learn from (what?)
shop with us, it’s ten different flavors to f*ck your lungs up (shop)
thousand*dollar oversized hoodies to keep my gun tucked (bah, bah, bah)
i can’t go on no lunch date, i’m busy mixin’ drugs up
hit the road, gotta drive straight, i ain’t tryna be in no drug bust (d*mn)
i f*ck that b*tch and won’t hug once, i still kiss my double cup (yeah)
brand new hundreds, they out the bank, count until my thumbs crutch
[chorus: chavo]
i got a thicky with me, no vickys on, go run and tell that
i’m rollin’ sticky weed, six thousand a pound, know you can smell that
was runnin’ laps ’round n*ggas all year long, i went and fell back
mr. postman, i wrap ’em and track ’em, i really mail packs
i got a thicky with me, no vickys on, go run and tell that
i’m rollin’ sticky weed, six thousand a pound, know you can smell that
was runnin’ laps ’round n*ggas all year long, i went and fell back
mr. postman, i wrap ’em and track ’em, i really mail packs
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