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lirik lagu pinto beans – kasher quon & atm krown

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[intro: kasher quon]
kasher quon
let’s go
got that boy chance on the beat
what up krown?

[verse: kasher quon & atm krown]
just beat a n*gga ass and stomped his head in the ground
i’m walkin’ out the bank with like two or three thou
smacked your b*tch, she was talkin’ while i’m thumbin’, had to recount
blow his thoughts out his top, ain’t nothin’ left to think bout
just f*cked this n*gga b*tch at his crib where he sleep at
shoot his house up, now he ain’t got nowhere to sleep at
boy you lookin’ skinny, where the f*ck do you eat at?
no the f*ck we don’t sell no five dollar weed pack
my cousin just called for a five dollar weed bag
i hung up the phone and told that n*gga i’mma call him back
man, you ain’t give your b*tch no money, that’s why she mad at youalmost f*cked a b*tch cause she thought i was adam22
i’m still waiting on that n*gga now to drop my interview
n*ggas broke as h*ll going to a mcdonalds job interview
just caught one of my opps on a bike, blew out his inner tube
on the dark web, saw a n*gga k!ll hisself in a red room
boy you broke as h*ll, took your b*tch to the red room
just punched a lil n*gga in his jaw, now he ain’t got no tooth
hold on quon, i got you, stomped his dumbass with the timba boots
n*ggas f*cked up in the crib eating pinto beans
i just scammed a n*gga online named charlie sheen
i was finna f*ck this lil hoe, but her hygene
i think i need to pop a percocet, i got a migrane
scammed a n*gga out of the country from ukraine
i just scammed him for a twelve hour block cause he was too lame
cashapp the cheese then i sent him the wrong address
had to block his number, he was blowing up my textplus
pimp slap my b*tch for playing city girls act up
hold up b*tch, turn this sh*t off, what the f*ck you thinking?
she ain’t want to, make that b*tch walk
i*i*i ain’t racist, but my shirt say “off*white”
was tryna roll up outside and got frostbite
come on my side and watch me get to bussin’ like i done toss dice
you the type to work at mcdonalds hopin’ the boss nice
you the type to buy three grams and roll eight blunts
a n*gga bought some weed but i sold his ass k2
the police pulled me over, they searched my car with a k9
but they ain’t check the coffee cup, poured up with [?]
they ain’t check under the seat, i had a bunch of narcotics
my ex*b*tch a manager, i’m bout to go swipe target
hahaha, man, look, quon r*t*rded
you still riding in that f*ckin’ bucket, it’s time to park it
you still riding in that f*ckin’ bucket, can barely start it
in the airbnb, blowin’, ashin’ on the carpet
in the scat pack flyin’, dumpin’ ashes on the ground
scammed my weed man for white runtz, a half a pound
you couldn’t afford weed, so you smoked a black & mild
your b*tch got pregnant and it wasn’t even your child
snapchatting all that weed, that wasn’t even your loud
the b*tch was trying to chill until i pulled my d*ck out
a n*gga tried to rob me and i blew his sh*t out
a was finna f*ck her, but her p*ssy blew out
ol’ rat*ass b*tch tryna smoke up my weed
told her pack all her sh*t and then leave
tryna take the car, b*tch we scr*ppin’ for keys
my cousin think he tough, we finna box for the cheese
just got a fire bin, i’m bout to punch a tv
f*cked a b*tch yesterday and she ain’t have a tv
yeah i told that b*tch “you too broke, i couldn’t even touch your dusty ass, but get some money, i’ll treat your p*ssy like a punching bag”
slapped my lil brother, told him “wash up with yo musty ass”
i’m finna meet bro with a pint at the krusty krab
bro serving, they said this best sh*t big unkie had
i was tryna call for a bo, but my service bad

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