lirik lagu big drip squad – sauce twinz
[intro: sauce gohan]
ayy
[verse 1: sauce gohan]
i got three flip*phones, your b*tch call all of ’em
your b*tch stalk all of ’em, had to put a pause on her
i got louis v on, i got double g’s on
i got d&g on, sh*t, i got three designers on, ayy
b*tches talkin’ ’bout bora bora, but ain’t even comin’ strong
and these n*ggas broke, been watchin’ dora, tryna swipe my vlone
and the opps still drop of course, lil’ n*gga, how the h*ll we into it so long?
we been on the road for three months, how we been on tour for so long?
i been gone, chasing paper, been counting franklins, huh
jackson wanna be a b*tch about it, so i took his ass to jamaica, huh
f*cked his b*tch and made him think about while i’m ridin’ around in mercedes
in that mulsanne like a mayor
blew up fast like crack in the ’80s
ain’t sh*t free, lil’ b*tch, come pay me
thirty*five racks in the stash like kd
i’m a young g.o.a.t. in this sh*t, no jay*z
vvs diamonds clear like hd
money obtuse, lil’ n*gga, you scalene
hit saks fifth, i’ma buy new givenchy
glock 33, i’ma shoot ’til it empty
big backwood, lil’ n*gga, you skimpy
it’s a rat in your circle, lil’ n*gga, you finished
i’ma shoot for my name, lil’ n*gga, don’t tempt me
just ridin’ a wave, you n*ggas ain’t drippin’
hundred racks stashed in the back of the bentley
new iphone ’cause the last three flipped
three new fours ridin’ down lake michigan
i been in this sh*t, lil’ n*gga, you sissy
new big b’s and i got ’em from missy
[verse 2: sauce walka]
fire up the backwood
put the b*tch in timeout, she ain’t act good
big booty white b*tch act hood
bought a louis couch where i once stood
boy, ain’t no feeling rich or feel this good
you was with the b*tch tryna kiss good
i was with the b*tch tryna pimp good
flight out to cali, hope the trip good
know i’m gettin’ clovers when i land like flip hood
you look at my mouth, it’s game over
this a rolls*royce, not a rover
i used to hustle for over
shoot with the soldiers, sleep with the cobras
i cut down the grass and exposed ’em
put the weed wacker up, it got colder
still walk ’round with my rocks on my shoulder
people wish i would stop and be over, woo
these n*ggas thought i fell off
well, it turns out i’m well*off
and you wouldn’t pop a sh*ll off
your brother’s in jail and your cousin tell
and you won’t send no mail off?
and y’all call a p a sellout?
i should tell you f*ck the h*ll off
that was really your brother, no stepchild
i thought blood was thicker than water
you buyin’ gucci and prada
ain’t sent your brother a dollar
[verse 3: sada baby]
ain’t nan’ these motherf*ckers loyal, huh
most n*ggas hoes from the get*go, ooh
ran that bag up by myself
now i’m outside blowin’ more gas than a citgo, do it
got more gas than a citgo, move it
bandana tied up, right leg buddha
got b*tches in line, they beggin’ and chosin’
i could get your baby mama b*ttnaked all in the studio
show me that coochie*hole, b*tch, hmm
pills in your bootyhole, b*tch, hmm
can’t set me up, know you’re acting for your movie role, huh
i’ma leave you alone, b*tch
leave a n*gga drenched all blood like dmx
i got a hundred*round drum, consider me a threat
heard you a snitch, got your people and your feds, how you ain’t dead?
shoot a n*gga, put a n*gga one in his head
shoot a n*gga lookin’, then come through the glass
cook a n*gga, leave a n*gga layin’ in the grass
stupid n*gga, you a student in the hall without a pass
chastise a nerd*ass n*gga, get harassed
big dome bully, knock him on his ass
i’ll make me an opp n*gga son go sell my packs
put him on the corner, cut class, get racks
huh, with the light voice, i ain’t slime nor slatt
skuba steve been a young thug way before rap
i been get you f*cked up way before rap
no cap, i shoot, i bang, i scr*p, duh, duh
get you way before rap
i shoot, i bang, i, i scr*p, mm*duh
boy, lil’*ass n*gga
huh, better check your move, lil’*ass n*gga
better check your temp
don’t act no fool, whole gang got tools, lil’*ass n*gga
with your ho ass
we ain’t givin’ n*gga no pass
send some sh*t real quick at your slow ass, hmm
get to shootin’ at you soon as you go past, mmm
[verse 4: sancho saucy]
got gucci, got fendi, got drip on
big d*ck for your b*tch just to sit on
make her sell p*ssy off the flip*phone
then i put forty*point diamonds in my earlobe
drippin’ sauce, these lil’ pico
all in miami on a louis v speedboat
jumped in the water, found nemo
reeled up a b*tch, got paper like kinko
a n*gga sell p*ssy, not kilo
take a n*gga ass out the game, tim tebow
shaq and he drive big diesel
sanch’ shoot a n*gga like a free throw
sanch’ shoot a n*gga like b*roll
p*ssy*ass n*gga, you is just an actor
sanch’ big bird, i’m a pterodactyl
b*tch call my phone, i don’t never answer
i’m a real pimp, i am not a trapper
sancho slang iron, that’s a known factor
heard word ’round town he a dome cracker
disrespect him, then you won’t make it home after
bullets hit hard like a linebacker
think somethin’ sweet ’til them b*tches start flyin’ at you
poppin’ sh*t off like a firecracker
big sancho break a b*tch down like a chiropractor
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