K lyrics
by 808 Mafia
[Verse]
God damn it's a di*k car
Like it's football, n*ggas gone get picked off
Uber when picked up that b*tch, I dropped that b*tch off
I found out she prostituting, smack that b*tch boss
Got all my diamonds here, have a hoe hypnotize
I'm always down to ride, UPS freight truck in disguise
I ain't playing fair, I should get penalize
I got this 50 on me, clip was born in 65 (69!)
I got yo b*tch here, you in my rear view mirror
What you spying on that b*tch? Boy she can get you killed
I'm at the top though, b*tch I live here
You tryna find me? I'm eating prolly, out getting mils
Like a record label, n*gga I'm giving deals
All this ice on me, got yo b*tch getting chills
She said she's anemic I really couldn't tell
Got yo b*tch out her clothes, top was good as hell
n*gga what's squad car? You little f*ck n*ggas topless
What's in my chopper? It's numbers, knock ya brains down 'til ya promise
Do you want ya shoes fixed? I'm a cobbler, only thing don't like is numbers
Shells eat a n*gga like peach cobbler like today's Thanksgiving
Yeah I got my hardy we can rumble n*gga
Like The Hardy Boyz, lot of jumping
Put a whole in ya skull, Ed Hardy n*gga
I got double on the scope, it's a party n*gga
God damn it's a squad car
This K Patriotic, call this sh*t Peyton Manning
This life I live, it is hard knock
I got that Rain Forest Cafe, I got that Hard Rock
Bullets go through hard rocks, sh*t like casinos
I found out you gambling my money, I'm beating bones
She really is a fan, I'm on her ringtone
Don't need no radio, bring the Glock, b*tch we sing songs
No dilemmas, I ain't Nelly
Yeah I'm rollin', I ain't Kelly
Who shot you? b*tch I ain't telling
Prolly me, I ain't scary
Coppers come and get Chief So, straight face, b*tch I ain't nervous
What's up in my Glock? 5-0, jack a n*gga I ain't Curtis
I'm a rambler, pistol shooter, damager
Bands to ya face the movement, take this shot camera ya
I'm always eating food, I'm woke I don't snooze
Now I ain't lacking b*tch, do you have fun or do ya
Do I look sober to ya? I'm off embalming fluid
This cash I'm running through it, this money thumbing through it
Me, goddamn it's the dumb hoes
These hoes don't like the shells on me, they want ya rumble