lirik lagu evil twins – warrenxo
[verse: lil slump]
h*lla rerock
i got fiens that be posted up front of my door
and they christian louboutin step on my flow
off the molly, b*tch imma sweat from the glo
she gon’ play with her nose she gon’ love doing blow
what it is, only exotic and green
got the rhinestone cuffs on my rockstar jeans
that’s my b*tch, she off the percies and lean
i do got a broom, but i don’t like to clean
and he dead ‘cause you n*ggas kept gassin’ em up
i’m on pills like lil’ b*tch i ain’t have me enough
it’s a grabba leaf, 3.5 and stuff
you ain’t shooting, boy you a p*ssy, you bluff
it’s the gas in my lung, this sh*t too tough
she a emo lil’ b*tch, her wrist be all cut
this straight fish scale, this sh*t ain’t cut
got the bean with the percoset, b*tch i’m stuck
they say slump, “why the f*ck you be tripping?” (what)
i been gookin’. n*gga got stabbed when i saw my boy
we from dead county b*tch we steady be juggin’
brother got shot ‘cause a n*gga just steady cap look
he got baking soda what the f*ck is you cookin’?
i’m sorry, left him with ketchup all over his shirt
i hit my dance when i f*ck a b*tch, i hit the jerk
then f*ck when i’m geekin’ off percs
i need my mans, where the f*ck is the nurse?
[verse: warrenxo]
big ass gun that big ass extendo
knock his ass out i feel like i’m kimbo
cooking up white, b*tch, i make a deal
that boys a banana, that boy getting peeled
p*ssy ahh boy you ain’t been on no drill
i ain’t sipping drink that b*tch got a seal
my shooter be crazy, that b*tch popping percs
poppin a molly, man take off my shirt
you talk on my name
that boy getting hurt
i got a bad b*tch, finna lift up her skirt
i’m servin’ the percs, i know it ain’t real
f*ck a record label, b*tch, i need no deal
my shooter he crazy, that b*tch need to chill
my fiend he geekin’, that boy poppin’ pills
they showin’ love, i know it ain’t real
boy he a snitch, he be coppin’ the deals
posted with slump, and we doing drills
p*ssy ahh boy, you ain’t crackin’ no seals
how you a trapper? you ain’t cutting deals
i got locked up, and i’m still serving them pills
got a bad b*tch, and she need to stuff it
big ol ass, and its all like a m*ffin
brand new choppa, and it came from a russian
ain’t gon’ shoot a b*tch, why is you clutchin’
quit all the b*tchin. but why is you fussin’
you thought it was drank, that boy bought some ‘tussin
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