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lirik lagu sherm high – peedi crakk & indy 500

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[chorus: peedi crakk]
it’s like a sherm high, n*ggas think they learn to fly
but you burn motherf*cker, you deserve to die
it’s like a sherm high, n*ggas think they learn to fly
but you burn motherf*cker, you deserve to die

[verse 1: indy 500]
for one, i ain’t playing with n*ggas
it’s like man look how i tee off n*ggas bruise with the first shot
like i’ve been training for months, hustled for years
praying forever, f*cking these b*tches, which way do i go?
rocking these fitters, not f*cking with n*ggas
hustling harder, [?] my daughter, fighting her mother
it’s like i missed thе fork on the road, i’m going in circles
thesе n*ggas’ll hurt you, i’m keeping em near
they sheisty as lawyers, i’m pleading the fifth
i’m busting the fifth, i’m jumping with magnum, through a hommy with crakk
we losing the guns, we eating and running
you toying your life, you keeping it moving
records or grams, gun or knives, bats or bottles?
wide a goose, friend or foe, love me or hate me
i’m spitting the raw, cooking it later, giving samples to smokers
you n*ggas is jokers, loading the sh*lls
checking the mail, rocking these shows, f*cking these groupies
loving the game, what could be better, what could be worse?
it might sound easy, my flow keep going
your gun keep showing, you telling me something; clutch my burner
“n*gga f*ck you too!” ready for war
ready to score, march through when my gun’ll react
the place we roam, indo we crack
ying and yang, guns and ‘gnac, crime and murder
summertime, play the steps, sipping piña colada
smoke my loosie, look here scr*p
this is the same coke, cop it and roll
n*ggas is drawn, plucking my nerves
testing my patience, same situation
[verse 2: peedi crakk]
toast to the gangstas, but i don’t drink with strangers
make a broker out of a hanger, got a demon inside of my finger
yuh, get a barrel and spin
i cut the sentence short with one hot black talon
goodness gracious, hot b*lls of fire, pause
blackjack your face, dawg your jaw wired
r*o*c, criminal records
you mad, go get a pad you a menstrual f*g
sick and i’m moving, sipping a grooving
shifting the stick; manoeuvre in the whip, racing time and losing
blades and razors scr*ping and shaving
keeping my patience when dealing with n*ggas, because trenches
touch the demons in my finger, this is
you ain’t gon’ like me but i bust my heat, give me a righteous reason
counting my felons, watch how my youngins plotting for gunfire
rubber band on my hundreds, dropping dollars off empire
fake billions, make a million saying slanders
fbi espionage supply my hammers
throw my hand up, m*p
broadcasting live from a, anonymous location [?]
out of innocent civilian faces, oh
i k!ll a n*gga while he taking a dump, shaking the pump
one more left, which way do you want? head or chest
this ain’t fiction, [?] vest
[outro]
first the mac go ringgggg
and when it’s done it go tinggg
first the mac go ringgggg
and when it’s done it go ting*tingg
the mac go ringgggg
and when it’s done it go tinggg
first the mac go ringgggg
and when it’s done it go rrrrrrragh

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