Sewed Up Songtext
Zaytoven
What's up Zay?
Uh, this how niggas live and shit
I just be tellin' what niggas be goin' through
I got a real low number on some pure weight
The feds out early so we movin' late
Thirty bands on the lawyer, I went through a case
And them Glocks straight paranoia, they go through ya face
These niggas [?], all their jewelry fake
And I wore two condoms, bitch you can't be late
When that .223 hit, [?] can amputate
These rappers fake and man these niggas livin' in imaginations
If you were real must get exterminated, I'm stocked up like the terminator
Bitch say she never fuck, fuck her you'll be burnin later
Dirty bitches, I don't want 'em, I'm only worried 'bout the paper
Bitch, see you later, send tips like you a waiter
This bullet count, I don't wanna get wasted
We throwin' it up, we got all the gas and the guns
All this weight on my back, man it feel like a ton
I was 20 years old with two sons
If you the gang, we gon' hunt
We done bought us Saint Laurent
Bullets eat him like he lunch
Shooters posted in the back and the front
Cook a lot of [?], if I do not know you
Molly game, sick, ebola
I'm workin' like a motor
Sold up, I got it sold up
I make the trap blow up
I got the streets sold up
I make the trap blow up
Hurry blow your arms up
I just picked the bomb up
Work so good, you need to get you one
Get you one then flip you one
Money come, decisions come
Should I spray 'em, should I kill 'em
And I'ma kill 'em, that nigga done
Put that bread on his head, that nigga done
I could finesse the panties off a nun
I might finesse a nigga just for nothin'
Sold out from the suburbs to the slums
Dick in her throat, watch the bitch hum
[?] from
If I leave the house, bitch I load the drum
Ain't tryna get no money, you a bum
We throwin' it up, we got all the gas and the guns
All this weight on my back, man it feel like a ton
I was 20 years old with two sons
If you the gang, we gon' hunt
We done bought us Saint Laurent
Bullets eat him like he lunch
Shooters posted in the back and the front
Cook a lot of [?], if I do not know you
Molly game, sick, ebola
I'm workin' like a motor
Sold up, I got it sold up
I make the trap blow up
I got the streets sold up (bitch)
What's up Zay?
Uh, this how niggas live and shit
I just be tellin' what niggas be goin' through
I got a real low number on some pure weight
The feds out early so we movin' late
Thirty bands on the lawyer, I went through a case
And them Glocks straight paranoia, they go through ya face
These niggas [?], all their jewelry fake
And I wore two condoms, bitch you can't be late
When that .223 hit, [?] can amputate
These rappers fake and man these niggas livin' in imaginations
If you were real must get exterminated, I'm stocked up like the terminator
Bitch say she never fuck, fuck her you'll be burnin later
Dirty bitches, I don't want 'em, I'm only worried 'bout the paper
Bitch, see you later, send tips like you a waiter
This bullet count, I don't wanna get wasted
We throwin' it up, we got all the gas and the guns
All this weight on my back, man it feel like a ton
I was 20 years old with two sons
If you the gang, we gon' hunt
We done bought us Saint Laurent
Bullets eat him like he lunch
Shooters posted in the back and the front
Cook a lot of [?], if I do not know you
Molly game, sick, ebola
I'm workin' like a motor
Sold up, I got it sold up
I make the trap blow up
I got the streets sold up
I make the trap blow up
Hurry blow your arms up
I just picked the bomb up
Work so good, you need to get you one
Get you one then flip you one
Money come, decisions come
Should I spray 'em, should I kill 'em
And I'ma kill 'em, that nigga done
Put that bread on his head, that nigga done
I could finesse the panties off a nun
I might finesse a nigga just for nothin'
Sold out from the suburbs to the slums
Dick in her throat, watch the bitch hum
[?] from
If I leave the house, bitch I load the drum
Ain't tryna get no money, you a bum
We throwin' it up, we got all the gas and the guns
All this weight on my back, man it feel like a ton
I was 20 years old with two sons
If you the gang, we gon' hunt
We done bought us Saint Laurent
Bullets eat him like he lunch
Shooters posted in the back and the front
Cook a lot of [?], if I do not know you
Molly game, sick, ebola
I'm workin' like a motor
Sold up, I got it sold up
I make the trap blow up
I got the streets sold up (bitch)
