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

Suono


Interfaccia


Livello di difficoltà


Accento



linguaggio dell'interfaccia

it

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Gestione dei Cookie   |   Supporto   |   FAQ
1
registrati/accedi
Lyrkit

donare

5$

Lyrkit

donare

10$

Lyrkit

donare

20$

Lyrkit

E/o supportarmi sui social. reti:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Tory Lanez

March 2nd

 

March 2nd

(album: The Bag - 2018)


Second cycle, the kid is moving like Billy Idol
With some past due W's that I'm still entitled
City love me I treat it like it's a bridal
Tux black as the strap I'm using to hit the rival
Last album was great, but I know this one is greater
I made it this far as a great tastemaker without a spread from Complex and them covers that come in from FADER
I'm at tables with mans you love it
Fuck it, I made it from buckets
Slept in the rugged seats of a Civic
To walking through the city and niggas screaming I did it
I spit this shit from way back for 'em
This for niggas that told me, "I'll come back" but never came back for 'em
Loyal to them so I wait back for 'em like they my niggas
Knowing they isn't, these niggas so insufficient
When we was both dealing, I used to throw in the pigeon
I guess, that mean nothing when niggas start coexisting
I done lost some good girls and niggas that I would cope with
Been back-stabbed by niggas I used to smoke with
As far as rap I'm not the one to toe-to-toe with or go at it blow for blow with the silly shit no for no with
Money on the line, it's money all on my mind
Calculating this vision, I sum it up for the grind
I promise when I got it I'd fuck it up for the times
Put 20k on the tab and buss it up every time, you get me?
In a Bentley smoking on a fat 20, jealous niggas don't offend me, Dior dripped in the Fendi
I do it for the family OGs that never sent me on mission when I was down to put clip in and leave it empty and work
I ain't tripping 'bout who got at me and dissed
I'm blessed, when I think about who shot at me and missed
I came from real situations
Niggas got clapped for little insinuations, time and impatience
Been grinding, finding my way in so much bros like the Wayans
Sometime it weigh me down whenever they try weigh in
In the day out, in the day in, shooters on say when
Niggas got clapped before the day end
The city I come from, taught me that there's nothing to run from
It taught me get my money in lump sums
So 'til that day, still at war, I'm still at pay
Never change boy, we still that way
It's young Fargo

Fatto

Hai aggiunto tutte le parole sconosciute di questa canzone?