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Chris Sails

Pressure

 

Pressure

(альбом: Letter To My Ex 2 - 2019)


[Savay:]
Pussy stay wet so, he matching my drip
Niggas strike out cause, I don't let them hit
If I do I get that head, and I dip
They watching close, tryna see if I slip
Feel like a nigga, y'all stay on my dick
If I want it both ways, I'll be taking your bitch
[?] like I'm Lilo, you Stitch
Stick to the code, hold it down, never switch
Bitches want beef but, can't even get they bread up
Pussy [?] fuck a nigga head up
Yeah I tote that heat but, I always keep it cool
Tryna [?] so you gotta be a fool
Bitch how you mad, I get paid to look cute
You just get paid to get fucked for some shoes
Talking that shit but, can't back it, that's tragic
Fucking with us, no you don't want no static
You know I'm coming real hard in this bitch
Claiming he real but he folding the pressure
[?] booked me, only digits they getting
Your nigga stay on me, he feeling this shawty
Getting hate more real then the love sometimes
And your bitch more real then your mans, most times
Bitches look up to me like I'm they idol
And niggas look at me like they want a title
I don't trust nobody but it's fucking K
My nigga keep his strap like Young M.A
My name ain't Simon, he gone do what I say
It's a hot girl summer, so your nigga ain't safe
How you don't fuck with 12 but, you stay tryna cuff

[Chris Sails:]
Okay
(Gang gang gang gang)
(Gang gang gang gang)
Gang gang gang gang, niggas don't really wanna bang bang bang
Lame lame lame lame, they just fucking for the fame fame fame
Different day but the same damn thing
Nigga rich but ain't a damn thing change
I wear my gun like it's fashion
Caught that pussy nigga lacking
Took the pistol out the wagon
Nigga froze up he was lagging
I ain't gotta cap, I ain't graduate
[?] to my fucking face
Even though we blood, I just can't relate
Yeah, I'm in the cut like Peroxide
No shoes strings but, I'm mob-tied
Keep a stick on me like a blind guy
Creep up on a nigga on his blind side
Kind of like, Ray Charles
Think about my past like, baseball
Even though they did me wrong, hate y'all
Tryna get a AP, like the viking
She won't let me hit, I was striking
Now I beat it up, Mike Tyson
Nigga too rich, to be fighting
Bitch I'm in these streets, fuck a sidewalk
[?] like hot sauce
Show them too much love, that's my fault
Nigga catch up, cause I'm hot dog
Heart too froze, I don't need Johnny Dang
Nowadays, bitches they just do it for the fame
If we ever see the opps, then nigga we gone bang
Hell nah, nigga you can't hang with the gang
I'm the type to wipe a nigga nose without the snot
Car ain't got no roof so, I made it give me top
If he acting like a pussy, then we gone hit his spot
Cause this 4 got a dick, we gone air this bitch out
Don't got, murder on my mind
But you bet not try to try me
Cause even Dr. Miami couldn't even save your body
You would think my niggas in a league
The way they catch a body
Yeah, I cheated on my bitch and I ain't even tell her sorry
Damn, okay, yeah yeah yeah yeah

готово

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