Lamb - Digi Scale (Remix) - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

Digi Scale (Remix)

Lamb

04.09.2014

6

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Tekst piosenki
[Hook] Weigh it on the digi scale, I can’t take a loss It just touched down, I just got it off Now I'm praying for a fifty pack Weigh it on the digi scale, I can’t take a loss [Verse 1: Key!] I think the weed man tried to short me Damn, I’ma pull up with this 40 for that 40 Damn, I need me another digi scale Damn, try to finesse the finesser, it ain’t going well I done took so much shit, I can’t take no shit I said my stomach backed up, now I can’t take no shit OK, my son, he said he hungry, we can’t take no shit If we can’t take your shit, we can’t take no shit Calibrate your clock, I think it's off I hope you didn't look at me and think I’m soft It ain’t shit sweet but this fucking Swisher If you was looking for your jugg, you just missed him [Verse 2: Reese] Brick up on my scale Got a youngin with a mouth full of gold teeth On the block with them blocks Niggas got shooters, boy, I got goalies I'm Coach Bombay with the plays Slide up in the Escalade, on my own damn escapade Young nigga so cold, so cold, looking like an Eskimo Swag dripping like a snow globe Bout to boot up like I'm Longway Chopper shot a nigga from a long way Still the same young nigga posted in the hallway Packs on the bombs in your hallway I dump powder like it's laundry Throw it on the digi scale, shit, I need a triple beam RZA Mane LaFlare, 200 bands inside my jeans [Hook] [Verse 3: Tezo] Crazy with the plays, Johnny Manziel Everything for sale long as you don't tell I can’t go to sleep, I'm watching for the mail I don't really trust ‘em, gon put it on the scale OATW, my niggas, I'll hustle you Down at the W, champagne and bitches that like other bitches I can't take an L unless it's a blunt Finesse the finesser, you silly as fuck Plotting, I peeped it, that chopper retarded That bitch get to tweaking, that bitch get to tweakin' [Verse 4: Lamb$] Racks inside my pocket, nigga, I don’t know bout you Working off my digi scale, spend 500 some shoes I ain’t even have to touch it, I made money off of that Really in the streets, I take trips and bring it back Call 'em, tell 'em now we need some more If he got it, nigga, we gon kick his door I’ma sell it for the high and get it for the low I’ma sell it for the high and get it for the low All of my niggas got Simmies on sight Benjamins in my pocket come alive Need you to count it cause I ain’t got time Need you to count it cause I ain’t got time Pounds in my bag and you can't get a zip Thinking bout all of this money that I’ma flip [Hook]
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