CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles: Camelot (Remix)

Yeah
FreshDuzIt
Yeah (Da, da, da, da, da, da)
Huh, huh, huh

I ain't gon' say too much when a nigga speakin' on that hot shit
Fuck the police, 'cause them bitches ain't gon' stop shit
Oppositions mad, if they play they gettin' popped quick
Flyest nigga in the game, yeah, I'm a cockpit
Posted on Camelot, wit' a hunnid some' shottas
I be swimmin' wit' the sharks, lil' nigga, you a lobster
Bullets heat a nigga up, like he eatin' on some pasta
And shoutout to Kingston, I keep me some Rastas

My niggas trappin' out the bando, shoutout to the Migos
If a nigga knock wrong, shoot him through the peephole
The trap always open, bitch, we ain't never closed
We movin' them packs and we movin' them kilos
Step one, step two, do my dance in this bitch
Got a hundred some' drums like a band in this bitch
Man, she keep on bitchin', all that naggin' and shit
Ho, shut the fuck up and just gag on this dick
I'm a side nigga, and I love when she swallow
If a nigga say something, hit him wit' a hollow
That Glizzy, knock ya' meat out ya' taco
Flexin' on these bitches, they call me Johnny Bravo
School of hard knocks, let me take you to class
My bitch is real skinny, but she got a lot of ass
I love counting money, I get a lot of cash
If you try to take it from me, his toe gon' have a tag

I ain't gon' say too much when a nigga speakin' on that hot shit
Fuck the police, 'cause them bitches ain't gon' stop shit
Oppositions mad, if they play they gettin' popped quick
Flyest nigga in the game, bitch, I'm a cockpit
Posted on Camelot, wit' a hunnid some' shottas
I be swimmin' wit' the sharks, lil' nigga, you a lobster
Bullets heat a nigga up, like he eatin' on some pasta
And shoutout to Kingston, I keep me some Rastas

I ain't gon' say too much, really, I been posted on some block shit
Gang member, but they got a nigga in the mosh pit
Blue faces all in my pocket, check how I mop shit
I drop shit, opps see me in person, trying to top it
I'm on Camelot with Choppa, we got choppas for a KO
We gon' wipe it, you gon' make it to the doctor
You know I'm married to the cake, I need a bowl like Betty Crocker
Try to rob me, that's a nada, no OVO, I got the Drac' and it's a problem
I'm in LA kicking shit with Mr. Morgan
Yeah, get money, nigga, then you're boring
I just caught the head and told my niggas, "Kick his door in"
They twins, these are .30's, these no backups, break some more in

Who am I? Big Gotti, for the record, I'm worth fifty mil'
On my lil' homies, millionaire and my whole city kill for me
Fuck me, Camelot, barbers scam a lot
CMG, this shit gang, respect the life, we rap a lot
In the kitchen with the pot
I'm more [?] than a drop
If a mil', Richard Mil', that's a crib on the watch
Money high like helicopter, people play and we gon' chop 'em
Hand fat, it's from the doctors, turn NLE to my lil' partner

Been breaking bitches, call me Moneybagg Pimper
Hit it, then skate, I'm a black Bart Simpson
Lambo' doors up in the middle of the trenches
Breaking down pounds, losing weight, I'm a slimmer
Red guys meet us, we got lotion, keep the chrome
Reaching for my charm, the Draco, knock off your arm
Inhale this [?], fuck what it's doing to my lungs
My lil' belly be so messy, I'm not fucking with that drum

I ain't gon' say too much when a nigga speakin' on that hot shit
Fuck the police, 'cause them bitches ain't gon' stop shit
Oppositions mad, if they play they gettin' popped quick
Flyest nigga in the game, bitch, I'm a cockpit
Posted on Camelot, wit' a hunnid some' shottas
I be swimmin' wit' the sharks, lil' nigga, you a lobster
Bullets heat a nigga up, like he eatin' on some pasta
And shoutout to Kingston, I keep me some Rastas
  Poster par  |  il y a 8 mois  |  Artiste : NLE Choppa