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 #

till i'm dead - delirium (rapper) lyrics

[intro]
ride until i’m—
ride until i’m dead or ’til i—

[chorus]
(perfect)
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop*pop*pop*pop
d*d*d*d*dead or ’til i make these tires pop
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop (perfect)

ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop*pop*pop*pop
d*d*d*d*dеad or ’til i make these tirеs pop
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop (perfect)

[verse]
ridin’ till i’m dead, hoe, bullets to your mental
hit you with that bap*bap, and now you under tombstone
that chrome up on my neck until my motherf*ckin’ neck broke
ridin’ in that civic, leave that p*ssy boy in tire smoke
tell ’em, “eat a d*ck, p*ssy motherf*cker, die slow”
you could get your body wrapped like motherf*ckin’ cairo
step across that line, and p*ssy boy, you goin’ viral
and you ain’t stand on nothin’, b*tch, you p*ssies got no spinal
catch me slidin’ in them vips, we ridin’ in some he*rs*s
c*ckin’ back that f*ckin’ matte black, p*ssy boy, it’s time for curtains
know we cuttin’ up them corners like some motherf*ckin’ surgeons
got them askin’ like, “who did it?” boy, you know i did it— (perfect)
who the f*ck is that?
i*i*i don’t know, but we ain’t f*ckin’ with your sound
and we ain’t f*ckin’ with the music
like, b*tch, i really do this, these cubans like some nooses
that p*ssy got a problem, got that .223 solution
i got seven reasons i don’t f*ck with anybody
like, every move i make, i see a motherf*cker copy
and every bag i get, i get a couple tryna block me
these p*ssies got no motion, so they movin’ h*lla oppy
i can’t f*ck with these clones feel like obi*wan ken0bi
g*got these p*ssies tryna know me just so they can get a verse
i’ma put you in a he*rs* ‘fore you get me for some work
boy, i came up out the dirt, p*ssy boy, you gettin’ curved
you a slave to this game, i already shed my chains on ’em
d*ck suckin’ for the fame, you a lame, and i ain’t f*ck with ’em
p*poppin’ out the shadows just to show them how my game different
thinkin’ we the same? there ain’t no way, p*ssy, you straight trippin’
ride until i’m—
[chorus]
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop*pop*pop*pop
d*d*d*d*dead or ’til i make these tires pop
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop (perfect)

ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires pop*pop*pop*pop
d*d*d*d*dead or ’til i make these tires pop
ride until i’m dead or ’til i make these tires—

- delirium rapper lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular