Coulda Shoulda Woulda lyrics

[Verse 1: CHRIST DILLINGER]
All a this Rick got these broke n*ggas mortified
He tried to run up found out my crib is fortified
Big ass AR in his face make him run and hide
n*ggas is characters, Rigby and Mordechai
All of this pain in my life. b*tch I gotta stunt
n*ggas in my hood they call me the chosen one
I drop a perc' in my drink and I go to work
pus*y be snitchin' so I gotta watch my words
He said these Rick Owens can’t fool me they Ksubi jeans
Wit' my b*tch and yo' b*tch and my di*k is between
My b*tches grown and yo' b*tches be seventeen

[Verse 2: Caspr]
Two b*tches on me, you know that ain't choosing me
The opps stupid, think that they foolin' me
They walk to the mall for some jеwelery
I walk in this house with somе Louie V
I put racks in the bag, and I'm doin' me
And I'm poppin' a perc' in a faucet
You gotta pay just to talk to me
Your girl, yeah she's gonna pay to get off of me

[Verse 3: CHRIST DILLINGER]
Pressin' these xans in my house wit' alprazolam
Fiends be so high they start doin' the running man
Said he got robbed from a boy, I don't give a damn
I got a plug and he look like George Lopez
He meet me with bricks and some p's at the motel
I robbed a n*gga and he look like uncle Phil
My plug went to sleep and woke up I was trappin' still
Fiends coming back and it’s looking like silent hill
[Verse 4: Caspr]
Ha, grab her
Got your b*tch, she wanna cha-cha
Don't deal with the talk and the ra-ra
Gotta a glick with no safety go fa-fa
I'm planning on spending that ah-ra
You can't hate if you sending the opps-a
Making noise and I know that you not hot
You talkin' sh*t, then we makin' his face drop
Sippin' on [?], I'm sippin' on straight drop

[Verse 5: CHRIST DILLINGER]
I'm on the dark web I’m ordering hella pills
Bust me a piece and finna pay hella bills
I sold a bag way before I had sold a rhyme
n*ggas be trappin' get caught and can’t pay the fine
Back in grade 9 I was servin' dimes
All of this ice in my watch I can’t tell the time
This ruger shoot bullets that's thick like your finger
We move that white girl in the city Topanga
Sipping on lean and its costing a n*gga rent
Hop off a jet and pull up in a brand new Benz
I got a bunch of blue pills in my Prada bag

[Verse 6: Caspr]
Look at my mouth, she trust you where the water at
Lost all my benz and they rain out but got it back
Coach gon' be hussle so you know I never slap
Go to the top, and I swear I ain't comin' back
[Verse 7: CHRIST DILLINGER]
Whole lotta racks in my bank account
Said he was trappin', his trap hold a small amount
Choppa on me and that sh*t go like dooda-chooda
Suckin' my di*k and she goin' like googa-googa
That n*gga broke, he just a woulda, coulda, shoulda