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 #

mango juice - jitzoee lyrics

alright, mhm, come on
he said, mango juice [?] purple jeans
white tee to keep it simple but a band on the feet
hop out, walk a n*gga down and leave him over east
it’s a cold dirty game, i got a clutch on the heat
took off the js and stomped a n*gga face in mcqueens
switch it up on a good day and throw on sbs
i’m young as h*ll, but i done lived a couple grown man dreams
i’m in the trap slapping, every strain go for ten a g
i’m riding in the front but big draco in the backseat
i shoot real consistent, i ain’t ever had to use a beam
i woke up dumped the bag off and then link with [?]
hit the stu’ to talk some big sh*t up on a lil beat
how the f*ck i’m wearing big shoes and got lil feet
[?] upped the glock and hit a goofy n*gga in the spleen

aight
big stepping on the opps [?]
i wake up and roll up, i gotta smoke my lil weed
eleven hundred on the amiris and my shoes a half a p
i better up this big b*tch and leave your shooter at the scene
popped out in all black, i’m tryna see where n*ggas be
i hop out and fah fah i’m tryna put him underneath
tweaked out and up bl!cking, got to shooting out my sleep
i had to tap this b*tch head she gave the lo to where we be
popped off then threw my mask up and said we drop beef
walk down, get out the five percent and get on two feet
gotta be careful a wrong step, i’ll break my lil knee
drop step and get to dunking [?]
laser beam so i can quick scope, i hit him down the street
[?] the wood, i couldn’t even breathe
brody hit him hard [?] hit him with a two piece
n*gga keep throwing up the five with no cheese

brody quick to shoot a fan better not reach
we the ones who pop sh*t and crack heads, what’d you think?
i done put like thirty thousand on [?]
my n*gga put it on his head, they said he’d die before this week

catch a opp n*gga, beat him to his sh*t like lil reese
two stepping, hit the one two and broke my lil feet
before i let him take my chain [?]
we been out here sliding everyday, it’s been a long week

my n*gga tweaked this [?]
my brother tried to shoot the baby chopper, he said its kicking back
see my n*gga run it up and i ain’t have no racks
thirty thousand get a n*gga k!lled, n*gga that’s a fact

ay i don’t really f*ck with cody with a beat on zack
lame n*gga talking out his mouth, he finna be a pack
mad as h*ll, f*cking with this b*tch, i done lost my hat
dumb n*gga why you leave the crib and you ain’t got no strap
alright, huh, look
n*ggas talking all that sh*t but they be missing things
i get the body, clean that b*tch up just like it’s listerine
shave a n*gga clean, n*gga look like mr. clean
i up the chopper [?] got a bl!ck you know he busting beams
n*gga smoking trash sh*t, i think i’m smoking trees
now i got a glock, i up that b*tch, i’ll send you overseas
n*ggas always talking paper but they ain’t making green
i up this big b*tch and let it blow, you know i be a fein
hop up out the cut, you know my n*ggas toting big bl!cks
i get the ball and run into the crib, sh*t that’s a pick six
seven n*ggas started on the line sh*t that’s a big blitz
i get the strap and up it to his head and then he sh*t bricks

(oh my god)
(n*ggas is not f*cking with us on god
(n*ggas is not f*cking with us in this sh*t, f*ck)

- jitzoee lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular