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lirik lagu kinte! – marrgielaa

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[verse 1 marrgielaa]
uh, touching the glock man they thought i was rapin
i’m going up and i know they hatin
i’m sippin [?] wit the vape pen
i’m smoking weed like im a jamaican
i’m smoking now i can’t breathe, floyd
if i see 12 n*gga then, avoid
off the percs i don’t f*ck wit the steroids
trap phone i ain’t using no droids
smoking that loud i ain’t hearin a noise
im on the streets i ain’t have no choice
b*tch im on tv like the voice
im on the percs shaking like im boyce
i*im on the percs, it’s making me sweat
im wit yo b*tch gettin her wet
n*ggas be queer talking out they neck
say you want smoke, ok n*gga bet
been in the fields n*gga like a vеt
im up in new york like the nеts
been in the field, slaving like kinte
chains on my neck, feel like kinte
i put in work n*gga like kinte
[?] n*gga like i’m kinte
[verse 2 smokingskul]
i don’t want them cigs n*gga eric garner
i’m in the fields george washington carver
i’m off the blue chew it make me harder
cut off the brick like i went to harvard
he smoke the dab pen wit a charger
i turn the trap house to a parlor
i’m not a l!ck n*gga that’s for starters
huh ?
who that is in that ford ?
i send a athiest to the lord
we turn his whole hood to a morgue
that n*gga dead you should pull the cord
if he don’t got bread, he gon get ignored
i don’t want peace, n*gga no award
i stay in the trap in the 5th [?]
i got the whips n*gga like i’m kinte
she tried to come for me i’m like kinte
i’m in the field n*gga like i’m kinte
i got a fro ima call kinte
[?]
i got a wife beater like a ese
where the fiends at? i can’t say
i’m in da penthouse like i’m jackson

[verse 3 marrgielaa]
i’m in da penthouse sticked up
that n*gga a b*tch and he got his b*tch took
try to be me i told him be you
been in the trap since grade 2
i pop out the cut then i started to shoot
that n*gga a f* yea that boy a fruit
you in a taxi b*tch i’m up in a coupe
f*ckin that b*tch then she get the boot
i took the xanax no perc
n*gga got popped now he in the dirt
n*gga got popped now he on a shirt
b*tch i’m rich i don’t need to work
ha,ha,yuh boy you my son n*gga i’m yo idol
call you a b*tch now you suicidal
you gon get k!lled make yo ass a title
yea n*gga they gon k!ll yo ass and make yo ass a title n*gga rip f*ckin f*
[verse 4 lawsy]
hold on, who that is in the h*llcat
i hit a l!ck, and i’m finna spin back
where yo chain go? come get yo sh*t back
i went broke so my ass hit the trap
i got rich got a bag from packs
i got rich got a bag from crack
kickin doors i’ma take them racks
i’m a drug addict boy i just tried crack
i slide wit a glock .17 and a mac
i got a blue beam on the glock
oh you wanna talk down you get shot
i took me a perc and i cannot stop
we sendin shots til his body drop
i was like 13 sellin wock
if you wanna talk down you get robbed
fast money im in love wit the fraud
run up on me you can get dropped
who tf?
only know goons and just me in that car
cookin up dope in the crockpot
i’m f*ckin on 3 b*tches 3 thots
who tf? who tf? who tf? ba ba ba ba ba

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