King Los - Postcards - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

12.04.2011

23

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Intro: Mickey Shiloh] Yeah We ain't got nothin' for these haters But some postcards, ha, postcards King Los Yeah... [Hook: Mickey Shiloh & Los] (Tell them you'll need this) We shittin' on the game, by the time they hear this We be probably sittin' on a plane, waving by (Tell them you'll need this) See you, fuck up out my lane, that's the perfect time to exit Nigga fuck up out the game, like (Tell them you'll need this) Rings on, King shit, throne shit Bow down I got rings on, I'm like (Tell them we'll need this) Go hard, we ain't, got nothin' For bitch niggas but postcards (postcards, postcards, postcards) We ain't got nothin' for bitch niggas But postcards (postcards) [Verse 1: Los] Ugh, in one week I see two, three jets Zoned like a 2-3, Gucci sweats I'm a trapper keeper keep that loose leaf fresh That's packs of paper, stacks of acres I mack, you ??? I'm rap's new savior I should tattoo haters on my nuts cause that's where they be Yeah they be, trynna follow me and be ahead of me Seventy, severed Chevrolet and bumpin' Heavy D, steadily I just get my mack on nigga, never back out Never turn my back on niggas, I just black on niggas Like lights out, iced out, if these niggas way beyond my motherfuckin' wipeout Niggas ain't trill, ain't built like this This my real life bitch I pay bills like this I just feel like I could make mills like shiiit So I shit mills(meals) out while you feel like shit Chill, you don't want none of this here I summon this here, this my summer this year And I'm stuntin' this year on a pj How the fuck I make it out without a DJ, woah [Hook] [Verse 2: Los] I'm somewhere under Palm Trees With a blonde piece within arm's reach Y'all niggas ain't blowin' that strong either I had a little talk with a palm reader Say money, money, money, money Coins, coins, cash, scrilla Drop, lamb, got, damn Going, going, fast, nigga Zoom, I'm somewhere on the moon lookin' down You ??? stuck somewhere in the room lookin' round Who cookin' now? Me (Ugh) Who the fuck thought it could be ??? (You) B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T-I-N-G, I can see A lot of that comin' from your clique right now So I'm writin' postcards in this bitch right now Like ugh, next time you see me I'll probably be different I told you niggas You can run back and tell the whole fuckin' city when you saw me I was lookin' like a whole new nigga King [Hook x2]
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