Soulja Boy歌詞

添加日期:2024-02-10 時長:02分58秒 歌手:Rome Streetz

Would you read us a bedtime story?
Passed me the pistol
Bam, I look through the door
I see like three, four niggas
Conductor, Conductor, Conductor
Being ****ed up for years locked in the box is not the goal
I figured how to flip, I turned a powdered piss to powdered gold (I did)
Life a gamble like a dice roll, let the [?]
I got the glow, big bottom hoes wanna top me slow and buy me shit
Like I'm Kenny Red, my life phenomenal
Still the same screwfaced youth that pull a nine on you
My name ring from east to west like a line of [?]
The dope dirty, cut with Fenty', died off of a line of food
Garbage dudes couldn't shine my shoes
Always knew it'd speak volumes when you come up crazy off making solid moves
Jail was hell, somehow I found heaven in the solitude
Kept a scalpel, number 11, fronting them Ops and you
Living rapid, mommy told me "Slow down" like chopped and screwed
On the road to riches, keep a four pound for obstacles
In the inner pocket as my Mazda zoom
Where I'm from a bum'll kill you over a crumb and not lie, salute
The homie told me "Stay off 50" like it's '04
Even the smartest niggas tryna know more, wisen up
Nigga died with his eyes open, he wasn't living up
My bitch bad as ****, by the smoking and still'll line you up
Like the ruler, mind on money making manoeuvres
Never make the news again, my legal shooter'll do ya
The Ruger spit fire like King Koopa, you niggas losers
Power kiss the ring, I got this rap thing in the stoop'
Yo, Billy in the back seem hype, I let him hold the torch
He hopped out wylin', shooting crazy like Soulja Boy
Got him in the frame, snapped shots, not a Polaroid
Thousand words I never said to the pigs, keep it closed for sure
Yo, Billy in the back seem hype, I let him hold the torch
He hopped out wylin', shooting crazy like Soulja Boy
Got him in the frame, snapped shots, not a Polaroid
Thousand words I never said to the pigs, keep it closed for sure
Yeah
Them niggas pussy, they some hoes for sure
This grown man business, little nigga close the door
Os to snort leave noses sore
No Fenty in the bricks, the whole load was pure
Yeah, seven figures what I grossed from tours
Buffalo nigga, got a feeling like the old New York
Sent lawyer money to the bro, he gotta go to court
Tryna give him seven, he got knocked with a pole before
I can look at you and tell you never sold a brick in your life
And we know you soft, you ain't living the shit that you write
You so timid, it's like who even considered you nice?
Stop that nigga, twenty bands and I do tricks on the dice
Uh, Clase Azul, I mix with the Sprite
Head from two bitches, same time, that's the shit that I like
Uh, my future just like my vision, it's bright
I know it gotta suck, you niggas live a miserable life
I ain't friendly with these rap niggas, I ain't missing polite
I ain't gon' give you advice
Imma watch your soul leave your body when I dig in my knife
F-A, kiss 'em goodnight, nigga that's light
Machine
Someone comes up and says something like "I am a God"
Everybody says "Who does he think he is?"
I just told you who I thought I was, a God
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