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Gun With Bigger Tits
Aintfullyhere
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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This Nigga Crazy
Let Me Say Something On The Mic (Bitch I'm High As Fuck)
Yo wassup (Let Me Adlib The Second Verse)
She In There
Bitch, Smoking Cookie Crisp (Yeah)
Stupid Bitch (Yeah)
All That Shit
Fuck Yo' Glock I Need A Gun With Bigger Tits
All That Shit
Fuck Yo' Glock I Need A Gun With Bigger Tits (Uh Huh, Yeah)
Pop That 30, Not That 10, I Need A Bigger Itch
I Got A Job For You Ho's, Finding A Bigger Bitch
Come Move That Cocaine By The Zip, Hide It By Your Tits (Yeah)
Young Rich Niggas We Rare, All The Ho's Stop And Stare
Louis V Underwear, VVS Solar Flare
Eskimo Polar Bear, Designer I Wear
Bad Vibes Over There
In My Recliner Chair, Putting Biscotti In The Air
Whote lotta gang shit
Kel-tec go bang
Bust out the brain
Plug on my wrist and baguettes is the name
Lace up the Gucci's and run to the bank
Double R truck, pull out
Kel-tec tucked in the back seat, pull out
Fuck nigga run like a track meet, pull out
Pop out, aim at 'em, knock down Then I put the top down
Turn up the music, yeah, rock out I need fellatio Yo
My cock out I don't trust you hoes, still got my Glock out
I used to stay two doors down, from a crack house
Two years later I was working the crack house
Niggas ran in gun twerking in the crack house
Opp smoking extendo and some whiteouts
Trio jeans and Timbos, yeah My shirt collar polo, yeah
From T.J.Maxx for the low, yeah Came a long way from those days
If I could back there I would go there
Cause I had all my bros there
(Nevermind I don't wanna go there)
Fuck your Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits
Pop that 30, not that 10, I need a bigger itch (Oh, yeah)
I got a job for you hoes, finding a bigger bitch (Oh, yeah)
Tryna move that cocaine by the zip, hide it by your tits
Uh, young rich niggas, we rare (Uh-huh)
All the hoes stop and stare (Uh-huh)
Louis V underwear (Uh-huh)
VVS solar flare (Uh-huh)
Eskimo Polar Bear, Designer I Wear
Bad vibes over there (Uh-huh)
In my recliner chair, putting biscotti in the air
I'm surfing on the wave
Numbing all the pain, novocaine with the percs
I'm out my body, bmr biscotti, ain't coming back to Earth
Without that molly, best believe he ain't gon' kill nobody
My niggas don't need no money If I tell 'em, they'll kill somebody
Uh, yeah
Nigga, what's good?
Four of my niggas ride through your hood, uh, yeah (Brr)
Wish you would, who do you think you are, Young Suge? Uh, yeah
Gettin' in good, leave 'em laying on the front porch
Like his house haunted
Roll up woods, pour up mud, let's get stuck (Bitch)
Where'd all the real ones go? We the only real ones, uh
Still in yo' place, get in the way, we gon' kill some
I miss my dog, let me fall, make him feel us (Us)
Won't stop 'till we see blood
Make him feel the real us (Bow, bow, bow)
Pain in they veins, bullets tear, leave a stain (Yeah)
From the pain in our brains when they took when I gained (Uh, uh)
Now the days ain't the same
Make me wanna scream out they names (Let's go)
No reply, so we gettin' high, plottin' from the other side
Fuck your Glock, I need a gun with bigger tits (Oh yeah)
Pop that 30, not that 10, I need a bigger itch (Oh yeah)
I got a job for you hoes, finding a bigger bitch (Oh yeah)
Tryna move that cocaine by the zip, hide it by your tits (Oh yeah)
Young rich niggas, we rare (Uh-huh)
All the hoes stop and stare (Uh-huh)
Louis V underwear (Uh-huh)
VVS solar flare (Uh-huh)
Eskimo polar bear (Uh-huh)
Designer I wear (Uh-huh)
Bad vibes over there (Uh-huh)
In my recliner chair, putting biscotti in the air