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lirik lagu do for blood – g” len (rapper)

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intro:

this some gangsta sh*t, this the real sh*t, on lanes, for all my bloods, what’s really bangin’, claimin’ this sh*t, it’s hard to be a blood, it’s not easy

verse 1:

i was raised on the 109th street in figueroa
where n*ggas be flamed up from head to toe
khaki suits, pendletons, with burners like erma? bud
back then the ‘rips was stickin’ ‘rus a handful of bloods
it was either stay in the house and beat a yee*yee
or come outside and bang with the westside dlb’s
got me some red chuck t’s, red flag, in to my knees
throwin’ up, big l’s and p’s, with lip, laniak and p’s
sweatin’ bustas like keith, if you were blue we had beef
quick to sock you on your t**th, or we heat you with the heat
myzer, servin’ purports?, wheels and an appetizer
navy white sheets that put ’em in icy eating keiser
bitin’ they skin like spiders, drawin’ blood like lvns with my damu ridas, and they my best friends
it’s a red world, on the streets or in prison
blood spelled backwards dlb with the o’s missin’

chorus:

in my world (yeah) only you
only you my n*gga
let me do for blood, what i would not do
i wouldn’t do that sh*t for n0body else, blood
make me do for blood (’cause you my n*gga), what i would not do (blood gang)
make me do for love what i would not do
sh*t i wouldn’t do it for n0body else
make me do for blood, what i would not do (my n*gga, woo)
verse 2:

damu ridin’ with my dawgs, and they wasn’t born mutts
doin’ brazy*ass sh*t, makin’ mommas mourn much
born nuts, chasin’ n*ggas just wearin’ them orange chucks
the words we say is bota belly, buffy bigarettes and born nutz
creepin’ on fools, with the wrong tools
not promotin’ k!llin’ each other like ‘rips do
the only k!llin’ is tellin’ ’em that i k!ll for ’em
the only dyin’ is tellin’ ’em that i die for ’em
’cause through the years chasin’ ‘rips
makin’ blood drip, baggin’ ’em like chips
we ended up tight like vice grips
different years, still here, burner on my hip
missin’ homies dead and gone on their lonely trip
that’s why i pour out some liquor before i take a sip
and walk around never smilin’ like my tooth is chipped
and to my ridas in the pen i miss all o’ y’all (woop)
that’s why when you call me collect i accept yo’ call

chorus

verse 3:

we are bloods, we are kin, deeper than that beat like twins
like the beatles we are friends, stuck like needles with syringe
we as one, inside the circle, tornados in the wind
damu ridin’ checkin’ chins
got yo’ back then we can then?
on the streets or in the pen, when you call me short on ends
even with this devilish grin, you’ll have what you holdin’ in
still bangin’ with my dogs but my tail ain’t waggin’
still saggin’ .44 mag and flamed like the dragon
still shuttin’ fools if they got the wrong tats
even if i’m wearin’ a bubu belt and a bubu hat (ew!)
still water my grass in red house shoes
give respect for my little homies i paid dues
i put up arm smoke one and get my burner
i’m sold to the heart wit’ it, got a heart murmur
saw a blood gettin’ beat down by eight ‘rips
i didn’t have a burner so i threw two bricks
chorus

outro:

yeah, this go to all my damus, my brazy’s, my mad moe’s, my lip’s, my ones that slide up without the keys, to my young tyg’s, woop

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