She wanna' run away up on a sunny day
All because I put my heart on my sleeve
Yeah that bitch not a W I'm making fun of you
Crawling right back shut the f*ck up and leave
Yeah my new ones from Italy I hope she feeling me
I'm on the field and boy you on the little league
Choppa' on me finna' pop em' off pop em' off
Making some heat in the stu' like a Molotov
Who is he who is he up in the Louis V
Gas in the air and it smell like the Fleur De Lis
Double cup double cup sipping The Holy Grail
F*cking her rough so I'm grabbing her pony tail
Bust out the mac going semi no auto
Smoking on crack like you Demi Lovato
My bad not my choice
Skip to the next chapter in a Rolls Royce
You a bad rapper need a proof reader
Pull up Imma' cap you in a two seater
Hal Jordan Imma' come slide with a green dot
Ralph Lauren stick touching up on her G spot
He wanna' lock me up don't got the evidence
I'm feeling venomous shorty be heaven sent
Slide on ya' block show my Wrath like in Genesis
You is a bitch no you won't second question it
Up in a pretty hood still evil residents
Pistol packing never lacking
We send em' to heaven f*ck about the action
Walk in the function I feel like the Grim Reaper
I made her mad so she cutting her skin deeper
She crazy no wonder I f*cked on a blonde lady
Passed her to my bro like I'm Tom Brady
Yeah aye' that bitch wanna ride the night
Away I'm her shining knight, today
Imma' go blow, like some dynamite
Feel all the blinding lights up on the stage
Chop got a little bit of kick back
You won't ever get your bitch back
Smith & Wesson lethal weapon
All of these bullets gon' teach you a lesson
Huh' never spin back all these bullets rip ya' six pack
All my jeans they undercover f*cked a treesh' and smoked her brother
Glah' glah' yeah that's the sound of the K
When she blowing ya' dome in
Raised by a wolf so I feel like a Roman
Feel like a Persian came in suburban's
Grab me the bourbon sip on the weekend
He feeling urban throw him in the deep end
He feeling smart but he sipping on Wockhardt
My pockets fat getting fatter like Paul Blart
Auto Bot chopper got a rocket launcher
Dig him in the ground put em' in his grave
You a pocket watcher gotta oppa' stoppa
Make him run around give that boy a shake
Kill his ass in broad day we gon' put his ass on Broadway
I just be sending bullets down the hallway
Don't really care about what the law say
Glah' glah' yeah that's the sound of the K
When she blowing ya' dome in
Raised by a wolf so I feel like a Roman
Feel like a Persian came in suburban's
Grab me the Bourbon sip on the weekend
He feeling urban throw him in the deep end
He feeling smart but he sipping on Wockhardt
My pockets fat getting fatter like Paul Blart
Auto Bot chopper got a rocket launcher
Dig him in the ground put em' in his grave
You a pocket watcher gotta oppa' stoppa
Make him run around give that boy a shake
Hell - thy divine wrath Lyrics
Hell - thy divine wrath Lyrics
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English
She wanna' run away up on a sunny day
All because I put my heart on my sleeve
Yeah that bitch not a W I'm making fun of you
Crawling right back shut the f*ck up and leave
Yeah my new ones from Italy I hope she feeling me
I'm on the field and boy you on the little league
Choppa' on me finna' pop em' off pop em' off
Making some heat in the stu' like a Molotov
Who is he who is he up in the Louis V
Gas in the air and it smell like the Fleur De Lis
Double cup double cup sipping The Holy Grail
F*cking her rough so I'm grabbing her pony tail
Bust out the mac going semi no auto
Smoking on crack like you Demi Lovato
My bad not my choice
Skip to the next chapter in a Rolls Royce
You a bad rapper need a proof reader
Pull up Imma' cap you in a two seater
Hal Jordan Imma' come slide with a green dot
Ralph Lauren stick touching up on her G spot
He wanna' lock me up don't got the evidence
I'm feeling venomous shorty be heaven sent
Slide on ya' block show my Wrath like in Genesis
You is a bitch no you won't second question it
Up in a pretty hood still evil residents
Pistol packing never lacking
We send em' to heaven f*ck about the action
Walk in the function I feel like the Grim Reaper
I made her mad so she cutting her skin deeper
She crazy no wonder I f*cked on a blonde lady
Passed her to my bro like I'm Tom Brady
Yeah aye' that bitch wanna ride the night
Away I'm her shining knight, today
Imma' go blow, like some dynamite
Feel all the blinding lights up on the stage
Chop got a little bit of kick back
You won't ever get your bitch back
Smith & Wesson lethal weapon
All of these bullets gon' teach you a lesson
Huh' never spin back all these bullets rip ya' six pack
All my jeans they undercover f*cked a treesh' and smoked her brother
Glah' glah' yeah that's the sound of the K
When she blowing ya' dome in
Raised by a wolf so I feel like a Roman
Feel like a Persian came in suburban's
Grab me the bourbon sip on the weekend
He feeling urban throw him in the deep end
He feeling smart but he sipping on Wockhardt
My pockets fat getting fatter like Paul Blart
Auto Bot chopper got a rocket launcher
Dig him in the ground put em' in his grave
You a pocket watcher gotta oppa' stoppa
Make him run around give that boy a shake
Kill his ass in broad day we gon' put his ass on Broadway
I just be sending bullets down the hallway
Don't really care about what the law say
Glah' glah' yeah that's the sound of the K
When she blowing ya' dome in
Raised by a wolf so I feel like a Roman
Feel like a Persian came in suburban's
Grab me the Bourbon sip on the weekend
He feeling urban throw him in the deep end
He feeling smart but he sipping on Wockhardt
My pockets fat getting fatter like Paul Blart
Auto Bot chopper got a rocket launcher
Dig him in the ground put em' in his grave
You a pocket watcher gotta oppa' stoppa
Make him run around give that boy a shake
All because I put my heart on my sleeve
Yeah that bitch not a W I'm making fun of you
Crawling right back shut the f*ck up and leave
Yeah my new ones from Italy I hope she feeling me
I'm on the field and boy you on the little league
Choppa' on me finna' pop em' off pop em' off
Making some heat in the stu' like a Molotov
Who is he who is he up in the Louis V
Gas in the air and it smell like the Fleur De Lis
Double cup double cup sipping The Holy Grail
F*cking her rough so I'm grabbing her pony tail
Bust out the mac going semi no auto
Smoking on crack like you Demi Lovato
My bad not my choice
Skip to the next chapter in a Rolls Royce
You a bad rapper need a proof reader
Pull up Imma' cap you in a two seater
Hal Jordan Imma' come slide with a green dot
Ralph Lauren stick touching up on her G spot
He wanna' lock me up don't got the evidence
I'm feeling venomous shorty be heaven sent
Slide on ya' block show my Wrath like in Genesis
You is a bitch no you won't second question it
Up in a pretty hood still evil residents
Pistol packing never lacking
We send em' to heaven f*ck about the action
Walk in the function I feel like the Grim Reaper
I made her mad so she cutting her skin deeper
She crazy no wonder I f*cked on a blonde lady
Passed her to my bro like I'm Tom Brady
Yeah aye' that bitch wanna ride the night
Away I'm her shining knight, today
Imma' go blow, like some dynamite
Feel all the blinding lights up on the stage
Chop got a little bit of kick back
You won't ever get your bitch back
Smith & Wesson lethal weapon
All of these bullets gon' teach you a lesson
Huh' never spin back all these bullets rip ya' six pack
All my jeans they undercover f*cked a treesh' and smoked her brother
Glah' glah' yeah that's the sound of the K
When she blowing ya' dome in
Raised by a wolf so I feel like a Roman
Feel like a Persian came in suburban's
Grab me the bourbon sip on the weekend
He feeling urban throw him in the deep end
He feeling smart but he sipping on Wockhardt
My pockets fat getting fatter like Paul Blart
Auto Bot chopper got a rocket launcher
Dig him in the ground put em' in his grave
You a pocket watcher gotta oppa' stoppa
Make him run around give that boy a shake
Kill his ass in broad day we gon' put his ass on Broadway
I just be sending bullets down the hallway
Don't really care about what the law say
Glah' glah' yeah that's the sound of the K
When she blowing ya' dome in
Raised by a wolf so I feel like a Roman
Feel like a Persian came in suburban's
Grab me the Bourbon sip on the weekend
He feeling urban throw him in the deep end
He feeling smart but he sipping on Wockhardt
My pockets fat getting fatter like Paul Blart
Auto Bot chopper got a rocket launcher
Dig him in the ground put em' in his grave
You a pocket watcher gotta oppa' stoppa
Make him run around give that boy a shake
Writer: hell ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ, hell ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid