lirik lagu brady – lazy3x
[intro]
ayy, ayy
[verse 1]
i’m big lazy (yeah), i go crazy (chang)
i’m in the field, b*tch, just like brady
i got a bunch of these hoes like brady
went up my dough, then i f*ck on yo’ lady
and lil’ shawty, she broke, so she cannot date me
and i shoot with the pole, step back like tracy
my choppa gon’ sing like lil tracy
i slide, the need for speed, b*tch i am racin’ (skrr)
and if it’s he that want smoke, then we face him
he get rolled in a blunt, then my n*gga, we lacin’
i’ma f*ck on a sl*t and i leave that b*tch pacin’ (ay, oh wow)
she say it’s too wavy and she can’t replace it
and she textin’ my phone, like “what you doin’ lately?”
and i run to the cake, so lil’ shawty gon’ chase me
and these n*ggas be fake, then just flip ’em like flop
and you say that’s yo’ bih’, but i know she a flop
and whenever i’m droppin’, my sh*t is a bop
and i’m with a thotty, b*tch, (yuh) she gave me top
and i got a new choppa, i got an ar
and that b*tch on my line ’cause i grind like a skate park
and i roll with the mag, got a strap like a guitar
she all on my c*ck ’cause i rock like a guitar
and n*ggas, they sharin’ my thoughts, but i do not get y’all
throwin’ them packs and this sh*t’s [?] built like a grip ball
like no, i can’t roll with a pit, b*tch i roll with a big dog
i got the dough and i’m rich and these n*ggas, they p*ssed off
like you start gassin’ that b*tch, but that boy need a pit stop
hop out and blastin’ the stick, and i’m takin’ his neck off
and i got yo’ b*tch on my lip, she get hit, she get checked up
like don’t wanna argue and sh*t, but she just [?]
and i’m not finna talk in this sh*t, n*gga, go to a dental
and that n*gga’s broke as a b*tch and i’m not finna tell y’all
lil’ ho wanna suck on my d*ck and i told her “b*tch, no no”
[?] pulled up this sh*t, b*tch i feel like i’m [?]
and [?] pullin’ these hits, and that n*gga won’t get up
and i got a thotty, lil’ b*tch, she gon’ suck and she spit up
i hop out the glock if you talk, then n*gga, get hit up (oh wow)
young n*gga trap, shoot the pack through the zip
d*ck in my hip, b*tch i shoot like the wiz
gold on my wrist in this b*tch, and it’s causin’ a bliss
and i put this b*tch in my whip and i can’t even remember her name
and these b*tches be frigid, got di’ on my chain
and i get that b*tch dizzy, said it’s off the chain
and you say that’s yo’ b*tch, but that b*tch for the gang
and i drive in the whip, and now i’m switchin’ lanes
big chop, put the stick to his face, uh (fah)
[verse 2]
i know you talkin’ sh*t, lil’ n*gga, i want you to pull up
i got yo’ b*tch on my d*ck, she gon’ hop in this whip and go crazy as soon as i pull up
and we runnin’ you down, b*tch i’m runnin’ the town
i got thirty in my rounds, you get shot if you look up
and extended clip, you get hit if you twitch
if that n*gga want some, we get gas in this b*tch
and he said he got doja, we jackin’ his sh*t
and i just beat the show, get out backin’ and sh*t
if you talkin’ bout dough, i got bags in the whip
and if he in the field, then we clippin’ his sh*t (ha*ha)
and if that n*gga cap, got a stick in the whip
i’ma run up my racks, i’ma stack up my chips
take a shot with the gun, he gon’ pop like some chips
and his thot gave me top ’cause she know who i is (thotty)
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