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lirik lagu motives – vellydagoat

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motives lyrics
[intro]
triple that, grayto
ayy, ayy, ayy

[chorus]
i’m like dababy, hop on the beat with a trumpet, let ’em know i got it jumping
sound kinda sneaky, tip*toeing in when i’m creeping, they won’t even know how i’m coming
this n*gga bogus, how the f*ck you got a heater, talking ’bout how you gon’ blow it?
that is not you, get that sh*t out of the booth and try and find another focus
thumbing through rackades, don’t try to come talk to me ’bout a b*tch, you knowing there’s a back page
i’m having motion, you tryna beef on computers, boy, you better hit that backsp*ce
i got the motives, money*making my agenda, tell them n*ggas, “check the fact page”
i ran it up, chuck up the deuce like i’m hill, all they seeing is the backplate

[verse]
i’m at the top of my— (nah)
i’m at the top of my pinnacle (uh)
i do this sh*t like it’s magic, mystical
step on these n*ggas, go up like elliptical
that money you talking ’bout make*believe, mythical
i’m not the type to try and throw subliminals
i see them watching, trying to act invisible
who think you fooling? buddy, you an imbecile
shoutout to grayto
yeah, i’m from ga, but not out in clayco
i’m from a spot where they don’t get exposure, but quick to expose you, you better not play, ho
it’s full of n*ggas that’s k!lling and dealing and robbing, you might just get put on a plate, ho
n*ggas that pop at your cap with that mo’f*cking gat, leave your brain out the cup like it’s play*doh (ayy, ayy)
i pass the glock to my boy ’cause he trained to blow
he pass it back, then i shootm that’s a give*and*go
i’m laying up with your b*tch, that’s a finger roll
i hit her once, then i’m out, gotta leave her ‘lone
i’m not fighting, shang tsung, b*tch, i’ma take a soul
stepping like zion, my foot busting through the sole
hit up a rat with my hammer like whack*a*mole
you got no talent, i see what they passing on
[chorus]
i’m like dababy, hop on the beat with a trumpet, let ’em know i got it jumping
sound kinda sneaky, tip*toeing in when i’m creeping, they won’t even know how i’m coming
this n*gga bogus, how the f*ck you got a heater, talking ’bout how you gon’ blow it?
that is not you, get that sh*t out of the booth and try and find another focus
thumbing through rackades, don’t try to come talk to me ’bout a b*tch, you knowing there’s a back page
i’m having motion, you tryna beef on computers, boy, you better hit that backsp*ce
i got the motives, money*making my agenda, tell them n*ggas, “check the fact page”
i ran it up, chuck up the deuce like i’m hill, all they seeing is the backplate

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