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Chris Sails

Balenciaga

 

Balenciaga

(álbum: Letter To My Ex 2 - 2019)


If a nigga want smoke, then we can go to war
Leave a nigga stretch on a boulevard
Hopping out a South in Balenciagas
Never catch me lacking bitch, I keep a chopper

I can see the hate with a blindfold
I can count a million with my eye closed
I'm an alien, I'm in a different time zone
I done did some shit that only God knows
Only God knows, only God knows
Only God knows
And niggas show me how they rocking
Fighting the pressure, these drugs in my body
If a nigga want smoke then, we aiming for his noggin
Leave that pussy topless
And if your gang want static
We gone let them bitches have it
We gone let them bitches have it
We gone let them bitches have it

Cause, if a nigga want smoke, then we can go to war
Leave a nigga stretch on a boulevard
Hopping out a South in Balenciagas
Never catch me lacking bitch, I keep a chopper

We got racks, we got jays nigga tell me what you need
I got goons, in the [?] nigga they'll shoot for me
Oh na na na
But we gone make it through the rain
Open scars fill my pain
I know my son need me but, I need you too
Fix your attitude 'fore I get this tool
Pussy nigga talking, he gone make the news
My brother keep the heat so Imma keep my cool
When they let my brother free, we gone do the fool

If a nigga want smoke, then we can go to war
Leave a nigga stretch on a boulevard
Hopping out a South in Balenciagas
Never catch me lacking bitch, I keep a chopper

Ain't talking Benihana but we keep them chopsticks
Broke bitches at the mall, they don't even cop shit
I can't fuck with you because, you on that opp shit
Can't fuck with me back then but now, they see I'm popping
No I ain't religious but my shoes Christian
Bitches following the wave, I gotta move different
Shoes ain't gotta lace but, he still tripping
Keep a double cup on me I be lean sipping
For you niggas [?], my whole team winning
That rollie and that purse mmhm it don't cost shit
All my exes want me back cause I'm a boss bitch
Leave a nigga bloody when his set cripping
[?] lane, no we swerving
Keep a Glock tucked, niggas lurking
Keep a strap on me in my Birkin
Now that pussy dead, was it worth it
Cocky [?] and some curtains
My niggas in the field, steady working
Niggas in the field steady working
Oh na na na

feito

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