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lirik lagu make me mad – kato2x

[intro]
(d*mn, kam2klutch)
yeah, uh, go crazy
go crazy, 2, go crazy, uh
uh, yeah, go crazy, 2
real talk, on my mama
uh
uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh

[chorus]
know i’m that n*gga
and i’m so g’d up, fifty racks in the gucci bag, uh
pop my sh*t, don’t brag, uh
love turnin’ n*ggas to a tag, uh
got that glock in my arms
don’t think sh*t sweet just ’cause i sag, uh
rest in peace to paul walker, but i’ma handle this
swear to god, i won’t crash, uh
old*heads make me mad, uh
talkin’ ’bout the sh*t they had, uh
so many diors stacked in the closet
some of ’em, i forgot i had
[verse]
like a bank, been f*ckin’ off cash
n*ggas be cap, this sh*t make me mad
every time you in the city for a funeral
i’m the type to come back when n*ggas get whacked
mix dior with the baccarat
asked her for the top, shе told me, “why not?” uh
and i’m too lit for a drop*top
baby girl, i like to get high, gotta hotbox
thеse n*ggas see me, they heart drop
f*ck ’em, well, we’ll spend a bag at icebox
high and got fly like an astronaut
n*ggas move wrong, you know they gon’ get shot
got dinged, then park on the curb
widebody kato, n*ggas know i got 2
gotta have bodies or money, he ain’t got that, baby girl, he ain’t a part of my crew
can’t post sh*t like dude
internet tell all, that’s how 12 get proof
n*ggas ain’t got bodies, they’ll turn to rappin’
that’s the only time that p*ssy n*gga be shootin’
beef, i’m really influenced
no warzone, ask my opps how i do it
we k!ll ’em, put ’em in ‘woods
got n*ggas scared to post up in they hood
opp b*tch, she suck me so good
won’t set me up, she know how i do it
he was dead, they sayin’ he good
sh*t overstood, they know how we do it
and i’m too turnt, need a floor seat
no disrespect, too lit for a skybox
every time they look, gotta see the watch
go’n and make a snap every time, they get that sh*t blocked
been too turnt, got my b*tch hot
she get mad ’bout sh*t, i can’t stop
all this ice, can’t get hot
if i get mad, bet a n*gga get him dropped, uh
really the biggest, n*gga
my opps ain’t hittin’ on sh*t, them n*ggas k!lled who?
n*ggas send shots out roof
up on the score, these n*ggas wonder why they losin’
get up close and personal, do ’em dirty
n*gga, he was dead ‘fore it made the news
n*gga gon’ front page who?
n*gga ain’t never k!lled sh*t, n*gga, go with your move
[chorus]
know i’m that n*gga
and i’m so g’d up, fifty racks in the gucci bag, uh
pop my sh*t, don’t brag, uh
love turnin’ n*ggas to a tag, uh
got that glock in my arms
don’t think sh*t sweet just ’cause i sag, uh
rest in peace to paul walker, but i’ma handle this
swear to god, i won’t crash, uh
old*heads make me mad, uh
talkin’ ’bout the sh*t they had, uh
so many diors stacked in the closet
some of ’em, i forgot i had

[outro]
forgot i had

- kato2x

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