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Curren$y & Freddie Gibbs – Fetti (Welcome to Los Santos)

Curren$y & Freddie Gibbs – Fetti (Welcome to Los Santos)

The Alchemist & Oh No Present Welcome to Los Santos
https://itunes.apple.com/fr/album/alchemist-oh-no-present-welcome/id979725556
http://massappeal.com/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Gangrene-The-Alchemist-Oh-No/312361848816773

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Comment (9)

  1. Like, lumber jack vest and some Bape sweats
    Eighty nine vets still rock the tape deck
    Suckas ain't livin' they just wasting breathe
    Summers pedal to the metal chasing debt
    Off track placing bets collectin' checks
    Draggin' that motherfuckin' money net
    On to the next score and we ain't finish countin' yet
    Fuck it, store it in the floor conceal it in the ceiling
    Park them cars behind my girls house tell her she ain't see shit
    Nigga, we movin' like new apartment units
    I'm just doin' my thing and hoes drawn to it
    Bomb fluent in that money talk
    Glass slippers before she can walk
    Silver spoons fill her food for thought
    Cinderella's prissy sisters woulda pissed their pants to kiss her
    Break it off on sight She been gone all night, but she came back right
    Tip toeing in the room, tryna not to wake me
    Slipped ten grand beneath my pillow and whispered I love you, baby
    Shit crazy but it makes perfect sense payin' me to play her
    But I shan't say I'mma pimp, just a prolific playa with a gift
    It's in my nature to put that pressure on simps
    Come off that paper, you don't know what to do with that shit
    I can show ya I can grow ya Into something much colder
    We the highed-up title holders. Behold us

    Behold us
    There's hoes know us
    It's like the game show us
    (That nigga, Tarantino flow)
    (You know what I'm sayin'?)

    Yeah, dirty needle to the mainline
    You can play kissy face with them bitches nigga I tame mine
    Strap her down with two bricks and straight put that bitch on a train ride
    If she ain't about that cheddar I give these heffers no hang time
    Like billy ho, tryna reup on them pills and blow
    Cleaner than Sydney Dean and spike gon' jump this shit media before
    Like I didn't come thru on the Lexus VS and the Benz on twenty inch rims before
    I sellin' them nothin' but killa I'm feelin' like Pete Villa in Cartier lenses ho
    You surely gon' die, have you lived before?
    Blew dope smoke on suede roofs
    Through Rolex on wood wheel
    Two hoes next that room deal
    Nigga cruise through to a cool meal
    Stay in the streets not indicted
    Ce to the O my shit drop when I feel like it
    Just call me Freddie Gordy on them forties
    I chamber block that ch-ch-ch-chopper thank the Lordy
    Gotta strip these niggas bare 'cause bare essentials couldn't afford it
    Fuck an album title, call my shit the coldest shit recorded
    Shoot it smoke it snort it
    Rollin dragin' now everybody chasin'
    Gary in the 1980s bitch everybody basin
    It's dinner time and shorty can't eat no books, he flippin' yay now
    Gave him a hundred years 'cause he Nino Brown of the playground
    I swear to god my momma always told me there'd be days
    Like smokin' dope and pourin' Henny on my nigga grave site
    And wonderin' who gonna raise my child if I get sprayed
    Light your boss up like your poppy and get paid
    (Yung freddy caine, fa sho man, Freddie soprano)

    Spitta and gibbs that pistol to your ribs
    That box chevy them 373 gears
    Chokes out the concrete, shit spinnin' around me
    Hit that weed and deliver a profound speech

    Spoke with profound speech speakin prolific
    Smokin' on blueberry like Halle head in the piffy
    'Bout to boomerang her Eddie, I Billy Bob if she let me
    Right on my living room floor
    'Cause these monster balls are so heavy

    Under the living room floor
    There lies trunk full of gold
    If shit should ever go low
    Then we will never go broke
    Liquify the assets, audio dope-boy magic
    Keep the Bentley console full of weed ashes

    G-classes, glass feat leather under my ass cheeks
    Talkin' bout muscle cars got a driveway full of athletes
    Rappin' like half the time I got two twenty bands for the half-book
    Keep it a hundred solid, they straight shook they half crooks
    (That fettuchini whats up)

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