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Quando Rondo - End Of Story Lyrics



Quando Rondo - End Of Story Lyrics
Official




(Dubba-aa flexing)
(Mook on the beats)
Mmm, you know we living, we on
(This Is The Sound) Look

Sometimes the best response is none at all
You probably would've left your mans, that ain't one hundred, dawg
See nowadays, it's like the fans doing the police job
Y'all talk that gangsta shit but cry when a nigga get knocked
You 'posed to walk it how you talk it
But shit, I still ain't got my point across
Ayy, if the shoe was on the other foot, they wouldn't have said he wrong
F*ck what they say, that's understood, we had to make it home
I put that on the neighborhood before they bust my dome
Lul Timmy riding right or wrong

Blood on your brother on the ground, gon' pick your mans up
Damn right we screaming self defense
He shouldn't have never put his hands on me
Look at the footage, that's all the evidence
See them pussy niggas shouldn't have ran up on me
Who the f*ck said that I was hidin'?
I'm still ridin' 'round with them bands on me
And to set the records straight
I ain't never had no show inside the A
Million on my head, that's what they say
That's all you got? Bitch, make it eight
Come run up on me, bite the bait
Thirty clip on me, jump out, shake
That shit a shame, I'ma live this way until they put me in my grave
Ayy, we be on some beast shit
We be on some roc kout with that Glock out on some G shit
I be with them youngins really mopped out on that three shit
We be on some blaka, blow they block off, hit they streets shit
We be on some f*cking hit his mama house when his bitch in there (yeah)

Sometimes the best response is none at all
You probably would've left your mans, that ain't one hundred, dawg
See nowadays, it's like the fans doing the police job
Y'all talk that gangsta shit but cry when a nigga get knocked
You 'posed to walk it how you talk it
But shit, I still ain't got my point across
Ayy, if the shoe was on the other foot, they wouldn't have said he wrong
F*ck what they say, that's understood, we had to make it home
I put that on the neighborhood before they bust my dome
Lul Timmy riding right or wrong

Red rum, top shotta, they play, I'm dropping a body
Right by the store with all them Crip niggas, only life that I had
What they don't know, he knocked down foenem and did it all with no mask
Know many men, they wanna kill me, feeling like Curtis Jackson, whoa

I don't give a f*ck how no one feel
My mans ain't do nothing wrong
And if your mans wouldn't have did the same
You need to stop f*cking with him
They on our side
And everybody think this shit a game
I already know it's murder behind this shit
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(Dubba-aa flexing)
(Mook on the beats)
Mmm, you know we living, we on
(This Is The Sound) Look

Sometimes the best response is none at all
You probably would've left your mans, that ain't one hundred, dawg
See nowadays, it's like the fans doing the police job
Y'all talk that gangsta shit but cry when a nigga get knocked
You 'posed to walk it how you talk it
But shit, I still ain't got my point across
Ayy, if the shoe was on the other foot, they wouldn't have said he wrong
F*ck what they say, that's understood, we had to make it home
I put that on the neighborhood before they bust my dome
Lul Timmy riding right or wrong

Blood on your brother on the ground, gon' pick your mans up
Damn right we screaming self defense
He shouldn't have never put his hands on me
Look at the footage, that's all the evidence
See them pussy niggas shouldn't have ran up on me
Who the f*ck said that I was hidin'?
I'm still ridin' 'round with them bands on me
And to set the records straight
I ain't never had no show inside the A
Million on my head, that's what they say
That's all you got? Bitch, make it eight
Come run up on me, bite the bait
Thirty clip on me, jump out, shake
That shit a shame, I'ma live this way until they put me in my grave
Ayy, we be on some beast shit
We be on some roc kout with that Glock out on some G shit
I be with them youngins really mopped out on that three shit
We be on some blaka, blow they block off, hit they streets shit
We be on some f*cking hit his mama house when his bitch in there (yeah)

Sometimes the best response is none at all
You probably would've left your mans, that ain't one hundred, dawg
See nowadays, it's like the fans doing the police job
Y'all talk that gangsta shit but cry when a nigga get knocked
You 'posed to walk it how you talk it
But shit, I still ain't got my point across
Ayy, if the shoe was on the other foot, they wouldn't have said he wrong
F*ck what they say, that's understood, we had to make it home
I put that on the neighborhood before they bust my dome
Lul Timmy riding right or wrong

Red rum, top shotta, they play, I'm dropping a body
Right by the store with all them Crip niggas, only life that I had
What they don't know, he knocked down foenem and did it all with no mask
Know many men, they wanna kill me, feeling like Curtis Jackson, whoa

I don't give a f*ck how no one feel
My mans ain't do nothing wrong
And if your mans wouldn't have did the same
You need to stop f*cking with him
They on our side
And everybody think this shit a game
I already know it's murder behind this shit
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Aaron David Jr Lockhart, Brayon S Nelson, Tyquain Terrel Bowman
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING

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