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lirik lagu fashoo – slump6s

[chorus]
all my n*ggas is scamming, they ready to risk it for that little payment
she like “boy if its smoke, n*gga it could be [?] bro if you say so”
it’s a 2007 but i turn to soulja boy with that draco’
when i flew to l.a, started sipping on purple, but this ain’ zancrow
when i hop in the beamer, [?]
when i looked in the mirror, i just see a n*gga that bring that cake home
better not come over here with that sh*t, you gon’ walk away with his face blown

yeah, get to the bag fasho’
yeah, i got them b*tches mad fasho’
i pull up, i dash your hoe
i cannot f*ck with a average hoe, go international
uh, huh, and for the drank you was taxing hoe
you don’t see me laughing hoe, lets go

[verse 1]
we’ll start making a movie
i fell in love with the drac’
i fell in love with the*, ayy
[?]
yall n*ggas can’t even rap, for real
tell little brother “let’s do it”
n*gga we had the racks, before the deal
none of my n*ggas new to it
b*tch, little hoe ask for my name in the spot
so i told her the youtube
these rick owens, i wear em’ alot
i might pull up and do a little shooting
get your hoe, cause she gave me the drop [?]
tell little bro “we not finna do too*”
this hoe peep that i’m famous, so she finna throw sh*t back for my gangnem
man, i wish n*ggas saw that boy look on his face when we almost lined him
told my brother to take off the top of the maybach, make sh*t brainless
tryna’ be at the top of the [?], with the same n*ggas that i came with
little hoe tried to touch my chain, [?] on my bracelet
tell that hoe if she worried about her n*gga finding out, b*tch don’t say sh*t
don’t even really got to speak on the sudden, but my n*ggas on that same sh*t
[?]
i don’t f*ck with these n*ggas, they acting like b*tches, they on that g*y sh*t
i got so much designer, i’m trying to mix it up, put on bane b*tch
[chorus]
all my n*ggas is scamming, they ready to risk it for that little payment
she like “boy if its smoke, n*gga it could be [?] bro if you say so”
it’s a 2007 but i turn to soulja boy with that draco’
when i flew to l.a, started sipping on purple, but this ain’ zancrow
when i hop in the beamer, [?]
when i looked in the mirror, i just see a n*gga that bring that cake home
better not come over here with that sh*t, you gon’ walk away with his face blown

[verse 2]
i brought this little hoe to a fashion show
told her leave her bags at home
yeah, yeah
my little n*gga shoot like he al capone
send that n*gga out the door
uh, huh
[?]
i don’t show my face no more
uh, huh
and most of these n*ggas be faking here
so i got to make it known
[outro]
yeah, get to the bag fasho’
yeah, i got them b*tches mad fasho’
i pull up, i dash your hoe
yeah, get to the bag fasho’
and for the drank you was taxing hoe
most yall n*ggas sad and broke, tss, how?

- slump6s

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