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lirik lagu reloaded – s god

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[hook: s god]
i just died again, now i’m back alive, reloaded
b-tch i’m nasty with the pen so you know it’s me that wrote it
i been workin’ on my zen, i been biggin’ up my focus
just so i can come again and show that i can not be broken
i just pulled up in a bendz and they thought this sh-t was stolen huh
they ain’t want me then, now it’s f-ck a b-tch my slogan
i got peso, euro, yen, you could say my pockets swollen huh
just blew ten on some motherf-ckin’ goldens huh

[verse: s god]
boy you not built for the game you a joke
shirt is a rack but it’s 3 for the coat
chain on my neck cost a vehicle note
blow me a house on a nautica boat
i’m the shark in the water but they call me goat
break off your chain and replace it with rope
packin’ some heat for the ones that want smoke
gucci my fangs, better cover your throat
cuttin’ off my ties with the pain of the past
if there was a god b-tch he built me to last
i got shooters scoped in, aimed at your -ss
all we hit is headshots, never aim central m-ss
pimp type k!ller, keep a glock with a beam
red dot hit ’em, put a shot through his spleen
call of duty b-tch, barrel stuff ’em with a pump
just to let you know that i ain’t f-ckin’ with you punks
why the hoes love me, ’cause my pockets goin’ dumb
lil tuff motherf-cker, i ain’t never gonna run
lookin’ up to me like you my god d-mn son
talkin’ sh-t about the god, give your throat a punch
f-ck what they talkin’
10 racks when i walk in
i spent a car note just to ice out the coffin
imma die in style, way too extravagant
anything less than the best is inadequate
my sh-t too holy, should be held at the vatican
got ’em all mad ’cause i’m f-ckin’ with the baddest b-tch
diamonds on my neck be dazzlin’
b-tch i need a private jet and some neck when i’m travelin’
you need to get more sk!ll ‘fore you can get like me
you need ten hunned racks just to dress like me
but look better than me? unlikely
all these rappers got no sk!ll, unlike me
it’s a shame they ain’t using what they got as a gift
they swear they knock it out the park but it’s more like a miss
b-tch i could teach a thing or two about penning some hits
so find a rapper better than me, bet he doesn’t exist
i’m a real rock star like i was born in the eighties
they say i’m crazy like a dog that was born with the rabies
i got ’em runnin’ for safety because i move like i’m hades
b-tch all these rappers my babies and i ain’t likin’ ’em lately
got that water like navy that’s why they callin’ me wavy
i’m steady leavin’ ’em shaky, i said i know why they hate me
’cause i’m top tier b-tch, on this you cannot debate me
i got slim thicc b-tches wanna f-ck ’cause i’m shady

[hook: s god]
i just died again, now i’m back alive, reloaded
b-tch i’m nasty with the pen so you know it’s me that wrote it
i been workin’ on my zen, i been biggin’ up my focus
just so i can come again and show that i can not be broken
i just pulled up in the bendz and they thought this sh-t was stolen huh
they ain’t want me then, now it’s f-ck a b-tch my slogan
i got peso, euro, yen, you could say my pockets swollen huh
just blew ten on some motherf-ckin’ goldens huh

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