a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

lirik lagu tough decisions pt. 2 – cordae & rg simba

[intro: rg simba]
hollow
ay, hollow, turn me up
simdot
simdot
b*bankroll got it

[chorus: rg simba]
cartier watch on my wrist while i post on the bricks
i be bringin’ them racks out (racks out)
these n*ggas be actin’ like they wanna rumble
they get in that ring, and they tap out (tap out)
how you gon’ k!ll me?
you can’t see me coming, you know that mercedes is blacked out (skrrt)
hit from the back and she black out
foot on they neck, run it up ’til i pass out (yeah)
baby, i’m lit now, suck it (suck it)
they ask what you rep, you better not duck it (h*ll yeah)
know what i rep, i yell it in public (yeah)
don’t want yo’ ho, that b*tch is busted (sim dot)
time i leave, frr, load it up, bust it
the hammer on me (frrr), can’t touch this (yеah)
i found out he told, and i was disgusted
hi levеl sh*t, b*tch we ball with no budget

[verse 1: rg simba]
ain’t conversin’ with n*ggas, i’m runnin’ up hundreds
if i got an issue, it’s gettin’ confronted (‘fronted)
ain’t gotta prove sh*t ’cause i already done it (i did it)
i’m thuggin’ forreal, gotta take what it come with
this d*ck in her guts, she gon’ take it, no runnin’ (no runnin’)
can miss me with that, that fake sh*t, don’t want it (don’t want it)
hop out with that frrr, he runnin’, he jumpin’
hit from the front, she yellin’, she cummin’ (she cummin’)
grove street n*gga, how i’m really a jailbird
before i see heaven, i might go to h*ll first
i’m really a king, these lil’ n*ggas is helpers
he seen that fast sh*t, he tried run, but he fell first
the whole county hatin’, so that’s why we pack glocks
i lost my n*gga when i was on max block
took him, he was drunk, we left him out band*c*cked’
and we rich forever, gon’ die when the cash stop
[chorus: rg simba]
cartier watch on my wrist while i post on the bricks
i be bringin’ them racks out (racks out)
these n*ggas be actin’ like they wanna rumble
they get in that ring, and they tap out (tap out)
how you gon’ k!ll me?
you can’t see me coming, you know that mercedes is blacked out (blacked out)
hit from the back and she black out
foot on they neck, run it up ’til i pass out (yeah)
baby, i’m lit now, suck it (fah, fah, fah)
they ask what you rep, you better not duck it
know what i rep, i yell it in public (public)
don’t want yo’ ho, that b*tch is busted (she hit)
time i leave, frr, load it up, bust it
the hammer on me (frrr), can’t touch this (yeah)
i found out he told, and i was disgusted (disgusted)
hi level sh*t, b*tch we ball with no budget

[verse 2: cordae]
hi level sh*t, watch, we take this sh*t global
the f*ck was you at when we had the boost mobile?
i’m on my third crib, boy a n*gga buy coastal
i don’t give a f*ck what them n*ggas had told you
i rich like a b*tch, and i smell like a brick
we still screamin’, “free mack,” he ain’t tellin’ ’em sh*t
and when lil’ simba went back to jail, i was sick
even talked to kim k, but she ain’t help with sh*t
but f*ck it, i got it, we come from the projects
my jailbird shooter call me droppin’ knowledge
i blew up the next month i dropped out of college
my girl speak french, i don’t got no stylist
i come from the trenches, that foreign got mileage
money got a stench, i bet i smell like it
my shooter got a twitch, he on that c*ck sh*t
my car got the speed, i be on that fly sh*t
a conscious n*gga, they be so surprised when i pull up and skrrt in that trackhawk (skrrt)
i ain’t from the block, boy, i’m part of the block
we together forever like asphalt (real)
when i was five, i woke up and seen bricks in the kitchen, that sh*t was my dad fault
these n*ggas my sons, rest in peace jerry springer
the lie detector ain’t say that’s false
[chorus: rg simba]
cartier watch on my wrist while i post on the bricks
i be bringin’ them racks out (racks out)
these n*ggas be actin’ like they wanna rumble
they get in that ring, and they tap out (tap out)
how you gon’ k!ll me?
you can’t see me coming, you know that mercedes is blacked out (blacked out)
hit from the back and she black out
foot on they neck, run it up ’til i pass out (yeah)
baby, i’m lit now, suck it (fah, fah, fah)
they ask what you rep, you better not duck it
know what i rep, i yell it in public (public)
don’t want yo’ ho, that b*tch is busted (she hit)
time i leave, frr, load it up, bust it
the hammer on me (frrr), can’t touch this (yeah)
i found out he told, and i was disgusted (disgusted)
hi level sh*t, b*tch we ball with no budget

- cordae rg simba

lirik lagu lainnya :

YANG LAGI NGE-TRENDS...