Текст песни DEAD WRONG - Thouxanbanfauni

DEAD WRONG

All my opps call me daddy, put em' in the dirt because they grounded
All of my hoes say they love me but they don’t, just around me
All these niggas say they gang but they stab you in the back
I could have that nigga dropped right now but so much guap get him whacked
Fucking with Cougars and Cheetahs, fucking with Tigers and Lions
Turn my lil' hoe to a Zebra she got her stripes from fire
You niggas ain’t got no ambition, you eager but just be lying
Most these niggas informants, most these niggas got wires
She could be pretty and bad but if she broke, red flag
Bitches be always mad, blame it all on they dad
I’ma back stab my damn self but I still get that bag
Baby got daddy issues, always calling me daddy
Throwing it back, making it clap, I got that bitch in a wrap
She hit a lick for me and she make that .45 clap
She do a whole lotta' things but I love how she count
She do a whole lotta' things but don’t ignore me bitch or you kicked out
All of my boys be running the streets, road running to your city
Nigga we just came from South Memphis and then hit your bity
My niggas in Alabama, next month for a show
But we still moving them bowls and we sell it for the low
We ain’t gon' tex you, if we don’t know you, fuck these niggas
We gon' hack it, cut you down, throw them triggers
All of your bitches be choosing, you know
All of your hoes, your wifey, they show it
All of my niggas they glow, icey, and we getting it making commotion
Feel like Ludacris how I’m disturbing the peace
Fauni be so so deaf, if you ain’t talking about cash, Jermaine Dupri
Always a clown in class, no really, I was down bad
Adding up all my cash and racks, just bad at math
Pockets need because they fatter than fat
Niggas be goofy, gon' bring a knife to gun battle to stab my back
Live by the code, got loyalty and morals, principles, won’t fold
You call that lil' boy your lil' brother shit get serious, he gon' crack
Don’t tell me to tie my shoes, I keep Velcro with the strap
You fucking with fakes, niggas you know fugazi, gotta' do better than that
Nicki Minaj with the Crocs, I make anything trend, anything pop
All of these bitches some bops, I just want the throat, you can keep the body
Niggas be talking alot, til' we spin on they block like the 4th of July
Every day independence day, these ain’t no fireworks, this the fye
And you hit with the Glock, hell nah, fuck that shit, you get the chop
You a big opp to me, I’m a real big dog bitch you a Chihuahua
but they not even there
Most these niggas just some pussies
If you think these niggas get racks you dead wrong