Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

صوت


واجهه المستخدم


مستوى الصعوبة


لهجة



لغة الواجهة

ar

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
التسجيل / تسجيل الدخول
Lyrkit

يتبرع

5$

Lyrkit

يتبرع

10$

Lyrkit

يتبرع

20$

Lyrkit

و/أو ادعمني في مواقع التواصل الاجتماعي. الشبكات:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Tom The Mail Man

Sofa

 

Sofa

(الألبوم: Schizo - 2018)


Heartless
Bitch yeah, that shit pierced like cartilage
Knife through that place where my mo'fucking heart is
She bad as fuck so the crime might be pardoned
She like to start shit and I push to start it
Brand new whip from TDC it's plastered on the back of it
I pack that shit like swisher sweets, I'm rapping on some platinum shit
Ayy, at me bitch, when you're talking using your fucking chest
So I can hyperbeam that shit and put my demons all to rest
I flex like like I'm on some ignorant shit
But if you push my limits, bitch, I might get ignorant quick
Like putting niggas around bitches, who like egos is big
You got my feelings all hit
And bitch I feel like a kid, in grown man's shoes
Fucking dying, nigga where the Senzus? I'm mental
Niggas think I'm cool cause I can ride, uh
'Cause I can ride this, um
This fucking instrumental

Uh, uh, yeah
Quesos in my pocket, I exceed the quotas
Your bitch my bitch, his chick don't smoke
But you know marijuana's
On the couch, I'm tee'd out, but nigga, barely mobile
Pop the trunk, yeah, 'bout that skunk, yeah I lick top of yogurt
I'm fully loaded like I'm Herbie, same suit
Martin Luther, fuck that bitching
4-5 on the waist, 45 I'm back to back
Left 'em shook without a hook
'Cause me and mine go back to back
You know Tom deliver rhymes, and he just drop me off a pack
I'm so solo, no Derulo, all these niggas hella pseudo
Get your weight up, he ain't eating how I feast, like I'm a sumo
Grease, rest in peace to Peep
Peeping how I speak, like bitch I talk it didn't exist
Pistol came in with a grip
Main objective is to rid all these niggas
I got the X and A-B combo
Swear, it's it for you niggas
Hella rusty, but I'm serving, need a tip from you niggas
Boy, I flatten out the track, extended clip on my pillow

Basic kick, always knocking, line 'em up with a beam
I swear to God, I have 'em stomach talking shit
How I'm always talking shit
Guacamole's in my molds, like "Why he always talking chips?"
And I'm hardened after three the way my mo'fucking rock get hit
Spot him quick and take him out
I ain't got no patience now
You bitches acting shady so I shine in my Mercedes, ow
Though it hurts, kick the verse instead of cursing bitches out
Your mama said I'm bout it, pops, so all them niggas missing out

Clout sucking bitches
Dirty toll having bitches
Flapjack booty having ass bitches (Ayy, uh)
I'm salty as fuck (Salty as fuck)
You got mail

منتهي

هل قمت بإضافة كل الكلمات غير المألوفة من هذه الأغنية؟