OMG!
Yelawolf, Young Buck, Dj Paul
0:00
3:05
Слушайте песню «OMG!» от Yelawolf, Young Buck, Dj Paul в высоком качестве. Длительность: 3:05, размер: 7.1 МБ. Идеально для вашего плейлиста!
- Просмотров: 10
- Длительность: 3:05
- Битрейт: 320 кбит
- Размер: 7.1 МБ
- Дата: 2025-11-02 05:12:05
Текст песни «OMG!»
Young Buck, Yelawolf, yeah D-D-DJ Paul TWHY (You did it, you hear?) When I come up out the Chevrolet — that boom When I pull up to the club, yeah, I'm gone When I wanna get high, then I go boom Motherfucker comin’ out of that cocoon Sippin’ only a little bit of that firewater Talk like a laundromat, no quarter Sufferin’ succotash, I slaughter Listen up to the Wolf, you oughta Wait a minute, you ain’t never been here, huh You there with the blonde hair Baby lookin’ too fire Had to get a towel to dry, oh, do tell She drippin’, fashion like all the way trippin’ Pеanut butter skin, tall like a vixen Gucci bag, all for thе fixin’s To be so obvious winnin’ I’ma have to go talk to these women If she keeps gawkin’ and grinnin’ I’ma give her that - like a chicken Ooh, fill in the blanks I’m a gorilla for real, I’m a gang I’ma go hard, pull out a card Buy the whole bar and go fill up the tank Ugh, touché Bossed up like a big briefcase Stick toupees Get money the quick way Been paid, get that whip today Out of that parking lot for the stick And still on the window, Three 6 I bump a lot, posted up like highball play Catfish Billies on Broadway With a tall thick one, yeah, all day On these 808s like a crawlspace In the yadda-gadda, so spark a fatty Me and Bucks mopped up the hallway with that trip I just put the girl to the beat, then squeeze Too hot to freeze, catchin’ up on my sleep Countin’ me out, but I’m like, bi*ch please Ain’t no cure for me — I’m a fuckin’ disease Coke on my nostrils Sellin’ dope to a bunch of impostors Got a Glock like PnB Rock shoulda had While I’m sittin’ here eatin’ at Roscoe’s F*CK that, why am I so hostile? I been lookin at all these impostors Got this little bitty knife that I had to devour wars Cutting out niggas popsicles Shoulda died but I kept on breathing, I'm back like B.M.F - second season All I really just need is a reason, I live, a nigga bleedin this evening Fat bi*ch, but she come with a body count, can't pay for it though - not that amount What is that about? I was goin' in raw, 'till she put out a pause, so I put up my dick and ran away I'm a Slum American, got nothin' but the needles with the heroin And I'm ridin' round with a brick in the Taiwain, watchin the WA, comin' back from the Maryland Quick days are comin' up soon, I need me shrooms, my lawyer's on Zoom I be back in forty-eight hours, while y'all can't put me in a cold ass home Still sick like a Covid patient, got a stick, and I'm on probation Put a picture in a bi*ch face like I'm Larry Hoover for the whole Folk Nation Let's go I won't give up on nothing (Drink a lot, drink a lot) I was born to give them hell (Smoke a lot, smoke a lot) I was born to give them hell (Drink a lot, drink a lot) I won't give up on nothing (Smoke a lot, smoke a lot) I won't give up on nothing Got a body and a shell (Drink a lot, drink a lot) I won't give up on nothing (Smoke a lot, smoke a lot) I was born to give them hell (Drink a lot, drink a lot) I was born to give them hell Give them hell