lirik lagu r.i.p. jitt pt. 1 – spaceghostpurrp
[intro]
what you know about that sh*t, mane?
sp*ceghostpurrp in this b*tch, n*gga
holdin’ this sh*t down, keeping this sh*t trill, n*gga
what you know about the murder rap game, n*gga?
shootin’ pistols and all that sh*t
pullin’ that motherf*ckin’ trigga, n*gga, straight up, n*gga
that’s how it’s goin’ down, n*gga, straight up
take me back in time to ’95, n*gga, straight up
[verse]
as i roll up my n*ggas
and we comin’ through up in this motherf*cker through the fog
and you already know*
al*al*, that gun, gimme that sh*t make these*, run*run
already know, n*gga, i’m number one, wit’ the toter
i got a f*ckin’ chip on my shoulder
n*ggas f*ckin’ ’round wit’ me, goin’ hard like boulders
the rock, got that motherf*ckin’ rock in my sock
n*gga, sell that sh*t right there on that block
i don’t understand what these n*ggas talkin’ ’bout
sp*ceghostpurrp, my n*gga, have them walkin’ out
wit’ bullet wounds, and bullet [?]
purple weed, n*gga, and yes, i’ll hurt you
n*gga, that’s thе motherf*ckin’ cologne on me
and yo girl likе that, she said she love it
f*ckin’ wit’ sp*ceghostpurrp, i shoot it
i*i don’t give a d*mn, i am stupid
i*i am dumb up in the brain motherf*cker
f*ckin’ around wit’ that sp*ceghost to the purrp i bust ya
lay that busta on the ground, get his pockets
go up in that b*tch, yeah, i won’t stop it
already know in the mall i stay coppin’ that number
that motherf*ckin’ slumber party that i always be talkin’ ’bout
well, n*gga don’t understand what the f*ck i’m talkin’ ’bout
well, i’m talkin’ about your woman, yo woman
that b*tch, she be suckin’ my d*ck
and she like that, that b*tch, and she love it
n*ggas do not see
i am the sp*ceghostpurrp nasa gang og
riding on my skateboard wit’ my d*ck out
tryna flash yo b*tch wit’ my d*ck when it’s out
suck it*suck it, slidin’ in a bucket
suck*suck it, slidin’ in a bucket
suck*suckin’, while i’m slidin’ in a bucket
i’m a young ass boss, so a n*gga said, “f*ck it”
blew twenty*two, pass the ball to me
i’ma score the touchdown, yeah, it’s all me
take it to the f*ckin’ house, creepin’ like a mouse
when i’m tryna hit a l!ck up in yo house
n*gga, in yo spouse, i’m in yo b*tch hole
n*gga tryna duck off ’cause it’s real cold
cold hearted, cold world
that’s a cold hearted ass b*tch, i took yo girl
she cheated on yo ass ’cause yo stroke game wack
all you good for is eatin’ the tw*t, and from the back
but from the back i hit it real good wit’ the d*ck
stick it up in her, b*tch like that sh*t
i made her l!ck, i’m drunk on liq
and my flow is on point like the tip of the pencil
utensil, i motherf*ckin’ maneuver
f*ckin’ around wit’ me, i leave you dead in a sewer
n*gga, just remember
runnin’ through the rap game real fast like silk silver
these n*ggas don’t know just how i flow, so i’ma f*ckin’ show them
n*ggas*n*ggas [?] i don’t know them
hol’ up, my n*gga, let me slow down
movin’*movin’ too fast in the membrane
i leave ’em in the grass, mane
i keep this sh*t trill
you al*you already know, nasa gang, yeah, we keep this sh*t real
[outro]
b*tch
swag, rest in peace jitt, n*gga
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