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lirik lagu 2 much at 1 time – yn jay & louie ray

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[intro: yn jay]
(it’s a wayne beat)
okay
yeah
okay

[verse 1: yn jay]
b*tch suck my d*ck so good, she blew my socks off
i ain’t even gotta— get you knocked off
lil’ bro just gurbed a fiend with some rock soft
i can’t bring d*rich to the club, it’s gon’ pop off
lil’ bro just— ahh
i can’t even say what lil’ bro did, he still fightin’ cases
we been trappin’ hard in the spot, it was not a vacant
bad b*tch got regular clothes, but she not basic
get to throwin’ bullets in this—
get to throwin’ bullets in this b*tch, but i’m not megan
almost flipped on the highway, i gotta stop racin’
wrap a n*gga up in the ‘woods, but i’m not jason
i just put a beam on my glock, i am not jason
gotta get rich right now, i am not waitin’
when i switch up the audible, i am not fakin’
b*tch ask me do i got a b*tch, i am not taken
b*tch ask me do i—
i don’t want one b*tch, i want two hoes
i’m double*booked, onе night, i got two shows
eight of wock’, two two*liters, i pour two fours
i deletеd all my old b*tches, i need new hoes
[verse 2: rio da yung og]
i can f*ck my old b*tch in these new clothes
seen louie pay fifteen racks for two ‘bows
i can run a hundred racks up with no shoes on
take the iron and straighten a n*gga out like school clothes
hustler, i just got ten ‘bows of gorilla glue gone
wait ’til my next kit done, i’ma p**p on ’em
i ain’t gotta shoot a gun no more, that’s what school for
the rap scene was f*cked up, we score, it’s through the loophole
this don’t smell like morton grove, what’s this, new wock’?
at gander mountain buyin’ a new chop to hit his oohwop
moved the dopehouse to the d, flint got too hot
at your ho house watchin’ tv in some tube socks
i ain’t never shot a ruger, bro, i only shoot glocks
unc’ ain’t never bought a zip to sniff, he only ooh blocks
this a .308— alright
this a .308, hundred*round drum’ll shoot up two blocks
mmm, at one time
how the f*ck i just shoot ten n*ggas with one nine?
just hit a line of soft for unc’ to ooh, that’s a punchline
real zazas from a1, not the runtz kind

[verse 3: louie ray]
i’ll sell dime rocks big as point—
ahh, okay
i’ll sell dime rocks big as point*nines
i gotta put sh*lls in somebody if i point mines
so many people on my d*ck that i pay no mind
ain’t no way that i can trust somebody that play both sides
unemployment got you gettin’ money for the first time
out the window with this b*tch, get his shirt fried
i’ma pull up where you at, call it curbside
n*ggas’ morals out here low as f*ck, but the syrup high
i can weigh it just by lookin’ at it, got a third eye
n*ggas tryna get they singles heard, but they— okay
n*ggas tryna get they singles heard, but i serve mine
it’s supposed to be you help your granny out, but i serve mine
i just counted fifty thousand out for the third time
you still out here tryna find a way, just hold your head high
m*messy sh*t and gettin’ money got my hands tied
i learned n*not to trust a b*tch because my mans tried
i was f*ckin’ with the work but i advanced to the mic
i’m up, i could blow your whole advance in a night
i be havin’ forty, fifty thousand on me on a flight
i be lyin’ to these hoes, actin’ like the sh*t aight
i can back chase and crack a whole case to pour sprites
i can back*break and beat down cat the whole night (hah, yeah)

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