11:11 - lazer dim 700 lyrics
[intro]
f*ck, f*ck
f*ck
f*ck, f*ck, f*ck
[chorus]
i’m a real gunsmith, i take the stick apart
this some ‘za, it smell just like three farts
takin’ drugs, i feel like a geekster
i spend racks, your life on my t*shirt
tap me in and now i got a new plug
from the trench and now i gotta move up
how you hotbox the whip with a newport?
we gon’ get over that gate, it’s too short
racks feel just like weights in my pants
i’m in new york, i’m switchin’ up my brands
i been wiggin’, i’m doin’ one*ten
hold it in, he spooked to tap in
racks bustin’, this sh*t won’t bend
n*gga doin’ hot sh*t, he think he the man
got to my hood, countrify my land
i hope he don’t smoke or we gotta spin
zips in the airport, i’m sneakin’ ’em in
i’m tryin’ all the fine sh*t, i’m a freaky lil’ man
[verse]
what you say ain’t rеlatin’, let’s see what you sprayin’
my partner demon, thеy won’t let the boy in
uncy evil, n*gga f*ck up your plan
run inside it so you get what i’m sayin’?
move drugs to rex to put the racks in my pants
i’ma get ’em whacked, i got a lot in my hands
za’ put me out of sp*ce, i’m off the land
only thing i see is the racks, the bands
take some drugs, we come back where you been
tripped out, how you lack with your gen?
good za’, havin’ packs in my hand
he look spooked, he looked back, where he ran?
two for one, i know she bad like her friend
black truck, sit behind dark tint
he look spooked, he put the drugs in the vent
keep it cool, ’cause your gang ain’t on sh*t
different name, don’t see my name on the l!ck
really ain’t havin’ aim on the stick
frrt, brrt
[chorus]
i’m a real gunsmith, i take the stick apart
this some ‘za, it smell just like three farts
takin’ drugs, i feel like a geekster
i spend racks, your life on my t*shirt
tap me in and now i got a new plug
from the trench and now i gotta move up
how you hotbox the whip with a newport?
we gon’ get over that gate, it’s too short
racks feel just like weights in my pants
i’m in new york, i’m switchin’ up my brands
i been wiggin’, i’m doin’ one*ten
hold it in, he spooked to tap in
racks bustin’, this sh*t won’t bend
n*gga doin’ hot sh*t, he think he the man
got to my hood, countrify my land
i hope he don’t smoke or we gotta spin
zips in the airport, i’m sneakin’ ’em in
i’m tryin’ all the fine sh*t, i’m a freaky lil’ man
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