lirik lagu bloodline – phat geez
[produced by cousin vinny]
[intro]
yeah, why not thru the bloodline nigga
woah, woah, woah
[verse 1]
life is like playin’ some dice, no we not living too right
we mix the lean with the sprite, nigga we buy what we like
you party too much and i’m up in the stu’ makin’ bangers tonight
free all of my niggas that’s up in the prison, i’m sendin’ ’em kite
holdin’ ’em down, i bet they make their night (yeah, yeah)
smokin’ dro runnin’ lights (yeah, yeah)
b-tches, they want the pipe (yeah, yeah)
we don’t catch feelin’s, we catchin’ flights
pussy -ss rappers get robbed for they ice
no we not talkin’, we catch you on sight
this is too easy, i barely don’t write
few from the columns, just look at the site
grind hard then you shine hard
poppin’ percs like they tylenol
thirty shots in that nina raw
light this b-tch up like a shooting guard
all heads nigga, coin toss
if your nigga die then you took a loss
and we keep it brief we don’t fuck with frauds
we don’t cuff them hoes, we just fuck ’em all
band up, young nigga band up
we fuck em’ and flee em, that’s why they can’t stand us
coupe with them peoples so you gave your man up
fuck her on camera, fuck her on camera, fuck her on camera
shout out to g, he got that pipe in the ‘mera
pull up on that ho, i bet you that scare her
[interlude]
why (?) hip hop when i do. fuck i mean god d-mn. why is it suddenly a nigga trippin’ when i do? why everybody else can have a war, have beef within’ the music, talk about differences and it’s okay, it’s music, it’s hip-hop, it’s groundbreaking. when i do it, it’s war
[verse 2]
living life but it’s fucked up
nigga subtweetin’ and get fucked up
and my old b-tch, she stuck up
she keep textin’ me, i don’t wanna fuck
and i’m gone for the night, gone for the night
smokin’ on strong for the night, lil b-tch you grown for the night
i’ma get in them thongs for the night
i guess i’m wrong for the night
and we smokin’ on strong tonight
we smokin’ on strong tonight
let me drink the rest of my syrup
middle of summer on top of the paper (know that x3)
flights to la to watch local play the lakers
oh you mixed with jamaican, that -ss is amazin’
let’s go to the teli, get poppin’ like bacon
remember the nights out in vegas
rehab on sunday, around the time i graduated
see me with meek mill i got plenty haters
do it myself, i don’t ask for no favors
no we not the same, i do this shit major
yeah, i do this shit major
i’m gone
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