Every Dog Has His Day
$uicideboy$
paroles $uicideboy$ Every Dog Has His Day

$uicideboy$ - Every Dog Has His Day Lyrics & Traduction

[Wetto]
You die, motherfucker (Players never die)
Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life (You did good, $lick)
Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life (It's a smash)
Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life
You die, motherfucker
Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life
Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life
Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life
You die, motherfucker (Ayy, yeah, ayy, ayy)

[Blanco Leopardo]
Bitch, I'm poppin' sticks like I'm Nick Cannon
Smash her like I'm Ganondorf
All my homies stuntin', we all ballin' like we manage sports
Fuckboy on my dick, wants a pic, go 'head and tag the dork
Miss me with that bullshit, yeah, I shoulda been a matador
Slap a whore, choke a bitch, man, I think I broke her hip
F-F-Fuck her 'til she soaked in piss, I plan to make a note of it
Blanco always faded like a motherfuckin' poke n' stick
Ready to snatch a soul, seal ya fate up with a frozen kiss
I'm smoking bliss, turn a fuckboy into mist
Scratch a name off of my list and add another just for kicks
Open slit up on my wrist, yeah, I think they get the gist
Tighten up my fuckin fist, Blanco never fuckin' miss
Spit out the drip, don't want crystals in my stomach
All these crystals on my bitch
Align her chakras while we fuckin', rearranging all her plumbing
All these suckas think they stuntin' but they really just lame
Spittin' out flames, bitch, I bang Grey
*59 'til the day I die, my tear ducts all dried
I-I-I fear I don't know why I feel so normal when I'm high
All these voices in my head, I can't tell which one is the lie
Always bring the storm, yeah Blanco blackin' out the sky

[Wetto]
Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life
You die, motherfucker (Wetto)

[Wetto]
Give it how these haters want it, break a bitch up on it
Yung Slick walking coma, as I smoke the marijuana
It's Yung North, make the bass shake, tell a bitch wait
Diamonds shine as I flip it, ship it, make the weight skate
I been wrist whippin', flockin' chickens when I slide pimpin'
Glock grippin', p-p-pop a clip in have your mind spinning
Spine bending, bloody linens in your mom kitchen
Crime ridden, hood I'm from ain't got no prime lending
Slicky flame sizzle, rollin' with a tank missile
Tell a hoe to hit them knees and let me fuck her brain tissue
I'm poppin' 30s, seein' blurry, still, I can't miss you
Pop the stick and blow the clip, kill everyone that came with you
Same issues, playin' Russian Roulette with revolvers
I go gung ho with that drum roll like I'm Travis Barker
"Last offer", hear the Devil talkin' to me often
Fuck a coffin, when I die, just burn me in a foreign
Wetto Chris Walken, haunted like the deer hunter
You a larp with no heart, just tuck your dick under
You a fed, you a cop, you a real uncer
Scarface Wetto with that metal, let that steel rumble

Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life
Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life
Fuck that, I don't need that shit in my life
You die, motherfucker
Fuck that


Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)