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lirik lagu kel top – timbo finna

i don’t even know what i mean
but i love you like that
i know u used to love me too, buy you can’t put me away
you could never forget/forgive me

i don’t mean to leak him
he went out of there for treason
and we left him up in pieces
and we cut it up in pieces
yeah we cut it up
you know we cutting up them pieces
we sell that sh*t in pieces
and i got a piece in
i ain’t with no pieces, i stay in with my peace
yeah now i’m on my jesus, know i’m on my jesus i put him on the cross
jank divine your body and kredit gon get to bossing
we gon get to mollying and we gon get to mobbing
we gon get to sorrows in the dwell and we gon mob him
straight to the cut
now i’m cutting it up
now i’m running it up
i think i need more hennessy (ahh)
maison fondée, i’m pouring the cut
louis v bag and louis v blunt, now what?
whats next?
imma build a country
imma raise a country
i have my 40’s for me and i have my 50’s for me
i got my f*cking mommies, homies and my f*cking brothers
no g koala, but we strapped up like mink in the prada
i don’t give a f*ck bout you b*tches n’lame ass n*ggas
i don’t give a f*ck bout you n*ggas n’ lame ass b*tches
on god
stab him up
yeah i had him shot, yea that two two had him bopped
yea yea she give me kel top (stop)
sucking on my d*ck, got a bandana on the rear wop (brr)
i don’t mean to leak him
he went out of there for treason
and we left him up in pieces
and we cut it up in pieces
yeah we cut it up
you know we cutting up them pieces
we sell that sh*t in pieces
and i got a piece in
i ain’t with no pieces, i stay in with my peace
yeah now i’m on my jesus, know i’m on my jesus i put him on the cross
jank divine your body and kredit gon get to bossing
we gon get to mollying and we gon get to mobbing
we gon get to sorrows in the dwell and we gon mob him
straight to the cut

don’t pardon me
never pardon me, i ain’t even said sorry to n0body
f*ck you
straight to the cut
booliaga
i’m sorry mama, d*mn

all my hollow tips they tippin’, flippin’
all my hollow tips they finna flip him
shoot him through the wall and f*cking clipboards
turn the lighs off, turn the lighs off, fl!ck it (turn the lights off)
yeah i fl!ck it, yeah i irrefl!ck it
i dropped a 40’ like a ticket on my f*cking wrist
that goldie rollie, the rollie be golden
the b*tch so golden, that b*tch be so swollen
yeah i am the best up in this sh*t
you can not test me when i’m on my booliaga (on my booliaga)

- timbo finna

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