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Shadows (feat. Piff Mason) Video (MV)




Performed By: BoutaDolla
Language: English
Length: 1:50
Written by: Piff Mason, Xavier Banker




BoutaDolla - Shadows (feat. Piff Mason) Lyrics
Official




Skinny nigga, but I always been a big stepper
Almost died a couple times, gotta keep a weapon
Only smokin' on exotic, we ain't never stressin'
Get ya king kilt in chess we ain't playin' checkers
F*ck the police, I ain't seen one protect us
F*ck the judge and the jury, they always neglect us
It ain't about your life, baby, it's about perception
Self-preservation, call that soul protection
Snakes in the grass keep ya soul protected
Pigs in the streets, I stay undetected
I was born a gangster, I don't care what you reppin'
If you're scared in the streets, better call a reverend
Ruger .57, you don't wanna test this
Hit him 20 times, put the blues where his chest is
Green tips hit his head, watch his head split
Roll me up a spliff, bout to pass the bitch to Piff
Aww I'm a f*ckin' walkin' conundrum
Dismiss a bitch if she come with the wrong blunts
It ain't no competition, these niggas is washed up
Take a different approach, these niggas is all stuck
This shit, I'm smokin', got me in another realm
I mixed too many drugs and now I'm comin' out my shell
Granny was a deacon, I been givin' niggas hell
Yo shit might be dope, but this shit is top shelf
And I'ma punch a nigga till I hear the bell
I been goin' hard, I do this shit for Michelle
I don't beef with niggas, I'm still at war with myself
I don't even speak to niggas, I let them talk to they self
High as giraffe ass, roll it up and pass that
Off that good grass pack, rollin' up a fat sack
Spittin' like a mini-mag, bitches wanna give me that
But I ain't Chris, I'm Piff, bitch, remember that
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

Skinny nigga, but I always been a big stepper
Almost died a couple times, gotta keep a weapon
Only smokin' on exotic, we ain't never stressin'
Get ya king kilt in chess we ain't playin' checkers
F*ck the police, I ain't seen one protect us
F*ck the judge and the jury, they always neglect us
It ain't about your life, baby, it's about perception
Self-preservation, call that soul protection
Snakes in the grass keep ya soul protected
Pigs in the streets, I stay undetected
I was born a gangster, I don't care what you reppin'
If you're scared in the streets, better call a reverend
Ruger .57, you don't wanna test this
Hit him 20 times, put the blues where his chest is
Green tips hit his head, watch his head split
Roll me up a spliff, bout to pass the bitch to Piff
Aww I'm a f*ckin' walkin' conundrum
Dismiss a bitch if she come with the wrong blunts
It ain't no competition, these niggas is washed up
Take a different approach, these niggas is all stuck
This shit, I'm smokin', got me in another realm
I mixed too many drugs and now I'm comin' out my shell
Granny was a deacon, I been givin' niggas hell
Yo shit might be dope, but this shit is top shelf
And I'ma punch a nigga till I hear the bell
I been goin' hard, I do this shit for Michelle
I don't beef with niggas, I'm still at war with myself
I don't even speak to niggas, I let them talk to they self
High as giraffe ass, roll it up and pass that
Off that good grass pack, rollin' up a fat sack
Spittin' like a mini-mag, bitches wanna give me that
But I ain't Chris, I'm Piff, bitch, remember that
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Piff Mason, Xavier Banker
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: BoutaDolla

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