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willcapone
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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Brr, brr, brr, brr
Aight, uh, uh, uh
Isaiah, Isaiah, uh (Yeah, Isaiah)
Okay, I be rollin' this time
My lil' brother dumb, all he know is to slide
I like to creep and get close up on man
'Cause ain't no fuckin' runnin' with holes in your mask
KJ lost two of his dreads and got left for dead
See, I see his soul in the sky
Really ain't clickable, shit to a bitch for some money
I was waitin' for that dough to get wack
Worry 'bout me, bae, I'm overly high
I'm overly fried, my opps'll be overly dead
Say shit 'til I'm overly tired
Run up, leave you overly wack
Better get that shit up 'cause this .40's fat
Make your motherfuckin' bones divide
Magic bitch want me to hold the sack
High off the drugs, I'm floatin' inside
He don't even know who killed him, I go in disguise
Bitches be broke and they know I'm the prize
So I'm drivin' some shit, you gon' know I'm inside
Then I pull on the side and put holes in his ride
How could I respect him? He told on the guys
Kill you or whatever, still throw it in that
I remember the window and blow through the glass
Leave you fucked up like you shot by a relic
Boy, a motherfucker's destined for throwin' up signs
Brains in the wood, we roll 'em a ton
I like the violence, promote it for fun
Fuck who the hottest, I'm colder than 'em
Hit in his arm, his shoulder was done
Dropped it too quick, he wasn't holdin' his gun
You want the smoke, it take over your lungs
This is Mike Tyson, the overly punch
Catch his ass in the colleague and fold in a sum
Okay, I be rollin' this time
My lil' brother dumb, all he know is to slide
I like to creep and get close up on man
'Cause ain't no fuckin' runnin' with holes in your mask
KJ lost two of his dreads and got left for dead
See, I see his soul in the sky
Really ain't clickable, shit to a bitch for some money
I was waitin' for that dough to get wack
Worry 'bout me, bae, I'm overly high
I'm overly fried, my opps'll be overly dead
Say shit 'til I'm overly tired
Run up, leave you overly wack
Better get that shit up 'cause this .40's fat
Make your motherfuckin' bones divide
Magic bitch want me to hold the sack
High off the drugs, I'm floatin' inside
He don't even know who killed him, I go in disguise
Bitches be broke and they know I'm the prize
So I'm drivin' some shit, you gon' know I'm inside
Then I pull on the side and put holes in his ride
How could I respect him? He told on the guys
Kill you or whatever, still throw it in that
I remember the window and blow through the glass
Leave you fucked up like you shot by a relic
Boy, a motherfucker's destined for throwin' up signs
Brains in the wood, we roll 'em a ton
I like the violence, promote it for fun
Fuck who the hottest, I'm colder than 'em
Hit in his arm, his shoulder was done
Dropped it too quick, he wasn't holdin' his gun
You want the smoke, it take over your lungs
This is Mike Tyson, the overly punch
Catch his ass in the colleague and fold in a sum
Catch his ass in the colleague and fold in a sum
Isaiah
Brr, brr
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