Songtexte.com Drucklogo

Morant Songtext
von Rowdy Rebel

Morant Songtext

Grrt-grrt (wha′?)
Wha'? And big fuckin′ grrt-grrt (ayy)
Ayy

Ayy, opps be checkin' on my page, go check on your man's (go check on your man′s)
Put like 50 in his face (ayy, baow), call him Johnny Dang (baow, baow, baow, ayy, ayy)
Put some ice up on her wrist, her shit was probably plain (her shit was probably plain)
I teach that bitch just how to shit like she ain′t potty-trained

My lil' shooter itchin′, bitch, and he fresh out the can
Bitch, I ball and shoot, bitch, I think I'm Ja Morant (I think I′m Ja Morant)
I tell Monte, "Pull up, shoot", you don't stand a chance (no, you don′t stand a chance)
One point five in jewelry (ayy, ayy), that was my advance (wha'?)

Big steppa, rule the land (rule the land), pink diamonds, Killa Cam (Killa Cam)
Put them drugs on the road, pull up broad (ayy), I'm Peter Pan (skrrt, skrrt-skrrt, ayy)
Hit Detroit, count up bands (ayy), flip the work and feed the clan (shotty)
I could whip the pot and hold my Glock without switchin′ hands (wha′?)

Switch the drop, this a Mercedes (skrrt), hit your block, like, let's go crazy (baow, baow, baow)
Ridin′ through Detroit with that old boy, they think I'm Skilla Baby (think I′m Skilla Baby)
Noddin' of the Perc′, but still alert even though I'm lazy
Hittin' up my plug, like, "Can you put a switch on a .380?" (frrt, frrt-frrt-frrt)


Opps be checkin′ on my page, go check on your man′s (on your man's)
Put like 50 in his face (ayy, baow), call him Johnny Dang (baow, baow, baow, ayy, ayy)
Put some ice up on her wrist, her shit was probably plain (her shit was probably plain)
Teach that bitch just how to shit like she ain′t potty-trained

My lil' shooter itchin′, bitch, and he fresh out the can
Bitch, I ball and shoot, bitch, I think I'm Ja Morant (I think I′m Ja Morant)
I tell Monte, "Pull up, shoot", you don't stand a chance (no, you don't stand a chance)
One point five in jewelry (ayy, ayy), that was my advance (wha′?)

Ha, ha, nah, for real, bah, bah
Ayy, ha, I pull up in coupe, my lil′ niggas pull up and shoot (bah)
Hop out with switch and kill a whole group (grrt)
Call dog off the glass, throw me an oop, ha

When I'm in New York with the Rebels (ha), these bitches treat me like Rowdy (like Rowdy)
The same bitch think you a client (haha), give me the neck, then I′m outie, ha (I'm outie)
I be outside every day, my nigga, it ain′t hard to find me (uh-uh)
Bitch hop on me, karate (bah), these niggas be smokin' on blockie (no cap)

I got more money than rappers (ha), how the fuck is a rapper gon′ sign me? (How the fuck?)
I be in the trenches like linemen (mm), my niggas still fightin' them bodies
Me, I be fightin' my demons (my demons), I fuck around, tweak for no reason (no reason)
Hit an opp in the head, and I′m leavin′ (fah), you know me, I got over not even, ha


Opps be checkin' on my page, go check on your man′s (go check on your man's)
Put like 50 in his face (ayy, baow), call him Johnny Dang (baow, baow, baow, ayy, ayy)
Put some ice up on her wrist, her shit was probably plain (her shit was probably plain)
Teach that bitch just how to shit like she ain′t potty-trained

My lil' shooter itchin′, bitch, and he fresh out the can
Bitch, I ball and shoot, bitch, I think I'm Ja Morant (I think I'm Ja Morant)
I tell Monte, "Pull up, shoot", you don′t stand a chance (no, you don′t stand a chance)
One point five in jewelry (ayy, ayy), that was my advance (wha'?)

Songtext kommentieren

Log dich ein um einen Eintrag zu schreiben.
Schreibe den ersten Kommentar!

Beliebte Songtexte
von Rowdy Rebel

Quiz
Wer besingt den „Summer of '69“?

Fans

»Morant« gefällt bisher niemandem.