Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

GODBPM by GrandeMarshall Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2012

[Intro]
Fuck my enemies bitch
Actin' bad and gettin' rich
Uh Uh Uhhhhh

[Verse 1: GrandeMarshall]
Free all of my fed homies
Rest in peace to my dead homies
Fuck that other shit nigga
Lets get this bread homie
One time for the real niggas
For them I will kill niggas
Stand in front the judge and never tell
And never squeal nigga
Two times for the freak hoes
Murder mommies who respect the G-code
Keep her nose high and her heels too
On twitter like "Grande im trill too"
My nigga, my nigga, my niggas is niggas
For life young niggas wit a attitude
How you mad at that? That ain't real rap?
Fuck nigga you still stuck in 92'
Hollow in yo head, this ya brain on drugs
Didn't momma tell you, "young nigga don't mess with them thugs!"
Don't be no enemy of mine
Don't be no fake friend either
Cause all that's gon' get you's a bag
And a trip to the preacher
And I worked too get this shit
But I'd fight harder to keep it
Cold nights I slept with the heater
And a full clip a'soul eaters
Kept that mask on handy
A couple sacks a' that candy
A couple of blacks my niggas
Outback who wanna get off? fine n' dandy
I know you fuck niggas been waiting
Been craving to hit something
Taking pages outta Craven's nigga
Creepin' and bumpin'
We on that bullshit nigga
Go head and bullshit nigga
Keep grabbin' life by the horns
And end up as bullshit nigga
Chuuuch!
[Hook]
This shit make a nigga wanna get some bread or buss a head(x3)
Or fuck my enemies bitch, actin' bad and gettin' rich
(repeat x2)

[Verse 2: GrandeMarshall]
Black flags at full sail
Black mask with a gold shell
Titties hangin' out her camo jacket
Pack a 22-platinum Chanel
Hearin' threats but I ain't hearin' shots
Gettin' hate but I ain't gettin' shot
Niggas talk but nigga don't chalk
Young nigga with a old soul
I came up wit a rare breed
Ain't no future in frontin' nigga
Since a young bul I been a OG
What's money to me?
What's hoes to me?
What's drugs to me?
That's a lick nigga
Ridin' round with the windows down
You hear the sounds in those sets nigga
That set nigga! (that set nigga!)
Uhh, what that smell like?
Mixing weed, embalming fluid
Burn it like a gas pipe
Reaper in that crown vic
Creeper in that champ hoodie
Angels in that blunt wrap
Eatin' in that zip nigga
My ghetto got the blackest nights
Runnin' from them blue and whites
Skippin and bouncin' on street lights
Word to the L and neither nights
Raw hide shawty, rubber never touch my bitch nigga
Everytime I bust know there's a rubber on my grip nigga!
[Hook]
[End]