lirik lagu foreign 4 door keys – yexwxrld
[intro]
ye, ye, huh, b*tch, b*tch, ye, b*tch, b*tch, ye, b*tch, b*tch, ye, huh, hey
[chorus]
back in the hood, and the trap deep
swervin round town in a trackhawk jeep, b*tch
cook em up, “chef boyardee”, bow
“foreign 4 door keys”
b*tch get the f*ck, out my section
smith & wessons in his face
get the f*ck!
yeah i could be kickin sh*t with a blasian b*tch in la, b*tch
back in the hood, and the trap deep
swervin round town in a trackhawk jeep, b*tch
cook em up, “chef boyardee”, bow
“foreign 4 door keys”
b*tch get the f*ck, out my section
smith & wessons in his face
get the f*ck!
yeah i could be kickin sh*t with a blasian b*tch in la, b*tch
[verse]
she just wanna know me
i tell her it’s rеally ain’t what it seem
4 poles on him, he can’t beliеve
through the f*ckin peep hole, so he could see
i threw a pass, she wanted action
one look at bro, he started mackin
they call me “mr. make it happen”
she say she “mrs. get in clappin”
pop in that b*tch, dracos and they clappin, rrrrrraa
i got a bro in the back with a brand new mac and he came for action
aye, run in yo pocket and take ya strap without you even askin
aye, ain’t no cap i could have you dead without you even laughin
bro bodyguard weak than a b*tch, i’m already in the function, hey
but that’s cool, cause i’m just the right n*gga to get it bumpin
aye, he got a ass verse
n*ggas ain’t raw like me so you better past first
b*tch, i got out of class first
this lil sh*t here stupid than a b*tch, but i done had worse
they know the gang been too official
that lil boy dangerous if he with us
can’t take my pain out of the picture
b*tch, it ain’t no filter in my slang
hit #9 up for the chain
that lil b*tch finer than you think
i put the diamonds in my rings
ain’t taking prada on a date
b*tch, hey, b*tch i’m fenna past right through em
he think he fly than a b*tch with a pint of codeine
and a brand new f*ckin ruger
i could just pop in ya dreams
i’m servin the block like a real deal “freddy krueger”
and i’m poppin his noodle, “lo mien”
if anything, these hollow tips gone do em
it, it was all a dream
[chorus]
back in the hood, and the trap deep
swervin round town in a trackhawk jeep, b*tch
cook em up, “chef boyardee”, bow
“foreign 4 door keys”
b*tch get the f*ck, out my section
smith & wessons in his face
get the f*ck!
yeah i could be kickin sh*t with a blasian b*tch in la
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