crash

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Lyrics

2Bunny
 I don't need to at my man
 I'm onto him, and he knows (he knows it)
 C4
 Free GD, free S-Man, free TS
 Look how many times we lurked, and the feds came just in time, lucky (my bro's)
 Tell the opps, "Stop tweetin'"
 Smoke bare loud to the dome (flavours)
 Them man know not to lack 'round me
 Get 'way? The chance is O (don't lack)
 Just had a word with bro (bro)
 Then I had to dash that phone (dash that)
 The pack came through, it's nuts (it's mad)
 Gotta link Y.AM and Asbo (bro's)
 Dargy, these streets are cold (cold)
 I don't need to at my man
 I'm onto him and he knows (he knows it)
 Been in the field with gang (that's gang)
 That's way before ten toes (mad)
 And these feds wanna lock me
 Proper watchin' me on roads (fuck the pigs, fuck the pigs)
 Badders on me, just slop it (huh?)
 Then I pass it onto my bro (thot)
 And who thinks they're really on? (Who?)
 They see four's and they blow (dashing)
 Got Savannah and Demi (huh?)
 And bro take that up O (mad)
 He ain't comin' back when he's fuckin' done
 He's waitin' on the reload
 TFace is a savage one, well you already got told
 410 fiddy, that's 'dads (that's 'dads, that's dads)
 Everybody's bad 'til the boy gets crash
 Run, trip up, get stabbed (mad, mad, mad)
 Don't do it for the fans, darg
 But I got love for the fans (love)
 Go get your money, go get your bread up (get it)
 And don't worry 'bout man (don't worry)
 I swear certain man come like fans
 410 fiddy, that's 'dads (that's 'dads, that's dads)
 Everybody's bad 'til the boy gets crash
 Run, trip up, get stabbed (dididi, dididi baow)
 Don't do it for the fans, darg
 But I got love for the fans (mad, mad, mad)
 Go get your money, go get your bread up (bread)
 And don't worry 'bout man ('bout man)
 I swear certain man come like fans
 C25 (gang)
 C4s, CG, same thing, crash 25 (crash, crash)
 And them crashers fucked in the head
 Just look at their eyes (look at them)
 And that sku-du-du
 All that woofin', man'll get fried (sku-du-du-baow)
 And, look how many times we lurked and
 The feds came just in time (lucky, boy)
 And she was tryna off her skirt, clearly she lost her mind (silly)
 Bitch, I want noddy, said it like a hundred times (ayy)
 And feds wanna see my face
 I'm linked to a hundred crimes (like what?)
 Got nicked like a hundred times (like what?)
 Hella corn for them fuckboys that love boys, can't reason with it
 Teeth there just touch boys, them steroids, go sleepy with it
 Ching ching, just cut boys
 Yeah, nuff toys man's made for the shit (like, yeah)
 Bad B don't cuff boys
 Just uck boys, she's made for the dick (badders)
 Don't chat shit, it's bad for your head
 Fuck that yout, he's chattin' to feds (chatty)
 Man don't talk, man rob (rob)
 Man don't talk, man clap it, instead (baow)
 Shotgun, soldier, batty and bench
 Fuck them girls, who's catty for them?
 Who? What? Where? I'll marry a skeng (I'll marry)
 Sku-du-du du-du-du for them (ayy)
 Sku-du-du-du-du-du for them
 I am the A and I am the M
 Sku-du-du-du-du-du for them
 Ayy, sku-du-du-du-du-du for them (ayy, ayy)
 Sku-du-du-du-du-du for them
 410 fiddy, that's 'dads (that's 'dads, that's dads)
 Everybody's bad 'til the boy gets crash
 Run, trip up, get stabbed (dididi, dididi baow)
 Don't do it for the fans, darg
 But I got love for the fans (mad, mad, mad)
 Go get your money, go get your bread up (bread)
 And don't worry 'bout man ('bout man)
 I swear certain man come like fans
 410 fiddy, that's 'dads (that's 'dads, that's dads)
 Crash, run, trip up, get stabbed (dididi, dididi baow)
 Fans, darg, but I got love for the fans (mad, mad, mad)
 Go get your bread up (bread)
 Don't worry 'bout man ('bout man)
 I swear certain man come like fans
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:13
Key
6
Tempo
143 BPM

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