Summer

The Pistolwhips

Score: 3
/
Played: 37

Album:

EP

Wiki:

Lyrics:

Earn upon approval! {{lyricsContributionDisabled ? '(While you\'re under '+USER_CONTRIBUTION_GAINS_LIMIT.WIKI_LYRICS+' Beats)' : ''}}

[Intro] Realness This is how you reach enlightenment Weapons And now, ladies and gentlemen, the king of one-liners [Verse 1] Grab a leaf gun men Gold trophies Triumphant Fill with troop Two calli for 10 construction Ukrainian lunches Slim lo poked out barely cat The regiment callisthenics and crunches (?) Living off the land with a blade For all my trappers with the tre Steel sharpen steel, the goal is to get paid My sponsors specialize in custom made rocket launchers This ain’t a rap fantasy, niggas will stop your concert Run through the crowd, rob a couple supporters Stick up the ticket booth, pistolwhip your promoter for having you My .380 tucked for what 8 ball on the pocket of this game, the loser gotta rack him up Bread off of gun shelves and knowledge of self In a city where summers reach about a 112 and 20 A bunch of goonies going loony, Angie and Moody In the ghetto, it's a movie, we barbecuing [Chorus] For all my hood legends Make them respect your name Double up on your price You know it’s good brethren Drought season, my click eating Every weekend, paperwork Million-dollar meetings [Scratches] [Verse 2] Medalliono Relax air max Fuck up a stack Peace to myself (?) The greater taken pair to a banker We can pull off a lick and stand on post Like as alamu alaykum Believe me, you never in your life seen fly The piece on the linx the size of a bean pie Locked in a uranium case for the main event Blaze a eighth and make stadium cake Crushing customers Overload the money spot, David Ruffin I was born like this so ain’t no changing nothing Pearl handles burn out candles It’s kinda sickening how I'm about the chicken, Colonel Sanders My kama sutra is the organic cambuja As the shawty knew that I would have an odd future Official, my thoughts is cold like the fisherman's wharf (?)But this is the north where the culture is the pistol And fiends don’t want crack they want crystal Meth in they pipes, left in the nights missing A bunch of goonies going loony, Angie and Moody In the ghetto it’s a movie, we barbecuing (hook) For all my hood legends Make them respect your name Double up on your price You know it’s good brethren Drought season My click eating every weekend Paperwork Million dollar Meetings