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Люди любят дураков Cashis, Rikanatti

Постер песни Cashis, Rikanatti - Люди любят дураков
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  • Исполнитель: Cashis, Rikanatti
  • Название: Люди любят дураков
  • Длительность: 2:04
  • Лейбл: X-Ray
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Текст песни Люди любят дураков
Yeah
It’s King Ca$his
Yeah
My homeboy problem, what up, G?
Hella fly, never die, got these niggas mad at me
Bet I’m high, open wide, this is what you gotta see
I’ma ride 'til I die, man, that’s how it gotta be
Test my side, bullets fly (Bullets fly, bullets fly)
Burn out, turn out the track in the dope house
It’s sittin' in my rearview, clear view, I steered through
'Cause niggas over here, way realer than they appear, too
Hit some little kids, this is enough to kill you
'Cause I know the value of a hundred dollar bill, dude
Put it on your head forever, 'til it mildew
Body shots to the body, rah, it’ll still do
That bitch jam, pop it, I’ll let it rot, it’ll still shoot
Nigga say he gon' kill you? Tell me what you will do
I’ma pop in broad day while channel five film, cool
Certified real dude, paint a picture, let it ride
Forty-five, grip 'em right, I ain’t fuckin' with ya
It’s a new day, gimme your bitch, I’m the new Uday
Live life like ain’t no nigga gonna shoot me
Fear none 'til it’s doomsday, I get my uzi fully, who rang?
Tough talkin' 'til I show 'em you a pussy, it’s the bootleg
Hella fly, never die, got these niggas mad at me
Bet I’m high, open wide, this is what you gotta see
I’ma ride 'til I die, man, that’s how it gotta be
Test my side, bullets fly, just another casualty
Another casualty, another casualty, casualty
Another casualty, another casualty, casualty
Another casualty, another casualty, casualty
I’ma ride 'til I die, man, that’s how it gotta be
Turn up, turn up, turn up
Four zips in the whip get burnt up
Four clips on my hip, you trip on my clique
Click-boom, you gon' get murdered, swaggin'
Fully auto action for everybody that’s askin'
The MAC rippin' you flacid, now that shit was classic
Now turn up, turn up, turn up
Four bricks in the whip I’m servin'
Your bitch in the whip, not to blow my dick
But to hold my bricks while I get my chips
I’m on six hundred
Four-fifty on the kit, let 'em load my wrist
And the opp-ers get murdered
Yeah, the opp-ers get murdered
Os on my clothes, got a stack of 5−0s
Through lines on my squirr, get served
Now go and get courage
I’ll pop two Percs and it’s curtains
I hope you have insurance
Don’t want your mama to get no burden
Since you was sellin' birds, bitch
I hope that it was workin'
And one thing that’s for certain
Ain’t no perpin' when workin'
And I just got me ten squirrs
I guess suppliers and workers
I stunt on niggas who hatin'
So pull your skirt up and skirt 'em
And I’m one of the realest niggas you not gonna murder
Hella fly, never die, got these niggas mad at me
Bet I’m high, open wide, this is what you gotta see
I’ma ride 'til I die, man, that’s how it gotta be
Test my side, bullets fly, just another casualty
Another casualty, another casualty, casualty
Another casualty, another casualty, casualty
Another casualty, another casualty, casualty
I’ma ride 'til I die, man, that’s how it gotta be
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