Rainbow Six Songtext
von JPEGMAFIA
Rainbow Six Songtext
You think you know me...
Boolin′ on the block with the Glock cocked
And you should know I got the straight drop
Boolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Boolin′ on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Boolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Pull up on yo block with the pistol
Slap you up nigga little boy just dismiss you
I don't give a fuck right punch its official
I don′t give a shit little nigga you need tissue
For your fucking face
Cause it′s full of the blood
Blood, bloody bloody bloody bloody bloody blood
Smack you fucking up
Nigga, I take a stub
Grab you fucking up, nigga
Put you in the trunk
Vertically nigga, I take you to the dump
Me nigga I—
What you niggas want!?
Got that thang in the trunk!
What you niggas need!?
Pills?
Crack?
Coke?
Weed?
Pressure, pressure
I don't wanna hit ′em with the K
I don't wanna hit ′em with the K
I'ma have to go and be the bad man
Baby, I′ma put him in his place
I'ma have to do it to you, baby
I'ma have to give him something ′mazing
Tell ′em when I'm talking to my baby
Coolin′ on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Coolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Coolin′ on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Coolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Look
It′s the young alt-right menace
What a pistol to a penant
Treat a writer like a peasant nigga, huh
Surface-level niggas never get it
Fuck a rating and a cynic
Always talking never living, nigga, huh?
I don't make no music for these niggas
Say they wanna be a critic
But they cannot take no critcism, huh
Nigga, we the junkies, they the dealers
I be rapping
They be triggered
You be writing
I'm a killer
Nigga, what!?
Fuck is this song!?
Fuck is my whip!?
Fuck up your streams!?
I got the rips!
Skinny and paid!
I′m Taylor Swift!
We at your job
Catch you on shift
Nigga, you gone
I don′t like you
Niggas don't want it
Lord forgive me, I′m sorry
Hit 'em all in the body
Lord forgive me, I′m sorry
I just caught another body
Hit 'em all in the body
I had to get some money
I don′t wanna be alone
It's so hard for me to trust you, baby
I'm around you baby
I got so much on me
Forty, I′d drown you, baby
I don′t wanna drown you, baby
I just wanna love you, baby
I got too much for me
Oh my God, I'm sorry
Oh my F.U.D., I′m lonely
Boolin′ on the block with the Glock cocked
And you should know I got the straight drop
Boolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Boolin′ on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Boolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Pull up on yo block with the pistol
Slap you up nigga little boy just dismiss you
I don't give a fuck right punch its official
I don′t give a shit little nigga you need tissue
For your fucking face
Cause it′s full of the blood
Blood, bloody bloody bloody bloody bloody blood
Smack you fucking up
Nigga, I take a stub
Grab you fucking up, nigga
Put you in the trunk
Vertically nigga, I take you to the dump
Me nigga I—
What you niggas want!?
Got that thang in the trunk!
What you niggas need!?
Pills?
Crack?
Coke?
Weed?
Pressure, pressure
I don't wanna hit ′em with the K
I don't wanna hit ′em with the K
I'ma have to go and be the bad man
Baby, I′ma put him in his place
I'ma have to do it to you, baby
I'ma have to give him something ′mazing
Tell ′em when I'm talking to my baby
Coolin′ on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Coolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Coolin′ on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Coolin' on the block with the Glock cocked
And you know I got the straight drop
Look
It′s the young alt-right menace
What a pistol to a penant
Treat a writer like a peasant nigga, huh
Surface-level niggas never get it
Fuck a rating and a cynic
Always talking never living, nigga, huh?
I don't make no music for these niggas
Say they wanna be a critic
But they cannot take no critcism, huh
Nigga, we the junkies, they the dealers
I be rapping
They be triggered
You be writing
I'm a killer
Nigga, what!?
Fuck is this song!?
Fuck is my whip!?
Fuck up your streams!?
I got the rips!
Skinny and paid!
I′m Taylor Swift!
We at your job
Catch you on shift
Nigga, you gone
I don′t like you
Niggas don't want it
Lord forgive me, I′m sorry
Hit 'em all in the body
Lord forgive me, I′m sorry
I just caught another body
Hit 'em all in the body
I had to get some money
I don′t wanna be alone
It's so hard for me to trust you, baby
I'm around you baby
I got so much on me
Forty, I′d drown you, baby
I don′t wanna drown you, baby
I just wanna love you, baby
I got too much for me
Oh my God, I'm sorry
Oh my F.U.D., I′m lonely
Writer(s): Barrington Hendricks Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com