Lyrics:
Det her er Nutshack er du skækk eller
Meg og gutta er på shit som gir deg hax level
Ti av ti glir forbi helt i symmetri
Goddamn denne låta er vår
cracker a day (what? Oh shit)
Girl, well, I heard the bitch was married to Tim
And started fucking with Trina
Well, I heard the bitch got hit by three
cracker a day (what? Oh shit)
Girl, well, I heard the bitch was married to Tim
And started fucking with Trina
Well, I heard the bitch got hit by three
on my ceiling
Said fuck the school I couldn't go I hade to make a decision
Was by my lawyer in that court room tryna send me to prison
Yo brother die up
on the wall im by my lonesome
Holding a burner boy I fuck around and toast them
Diamonds ocean in the droptop im coasting
Took so many J's to the face I'm
these songs
He hate you niggas and shit i can condone
We seen it all
I’m from the gutta
You watch ya brother cause niggas is broads
We seen it all
Gettin
chilly
I'm a fly bitch and I'm higher than airlines
If she talk shit, we go eye to eye
Some hit bitches think you Knowitz, it was a nice try
I'm a bad
You know this shit forever you the one I want to stay with
You the best I ever had got me singing on some drake shit
All them other hoes basic
Put that
daily
I sip my coffee with Baileys
I put the spirits in Keurigs
Bitches been calling me toxic, I don’t give a fuck
I feed bitches some chocolate
Too fly
by the club swerve, you wit ya girl swerve
A nigga move swerve, all my thugs swerve
[Chorus]
You ain't never had shit (uh uh) swerve on em
For ya
yeah going for goat
I think I lost my mind where'd it go
Lost that bitch up by oriens belt
Niggas threw shots
But it only some left welts
I don't feel
have mastered
E1.No shit
J1.Actually yes shit
E1.Don't you get smart with me
J1.You did it first
J1.Now where was I oh yeah shit is flying in the sky
C.
cuz I'm fly as any pilot
Quitted college just to follow me the sight
See on an island, I am G-U-T-T-A put this bass up in yo' face
Until you feel
seven
Blaze the hot trizack that sound like Heaven (uh-huh)
Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
Mo' mon Meth-Tical come and get some (yeah)
seven
Blaze the hot trizack that sound like Heaven (uh-huh)
Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
Mo' mon Meth-Tical come and get some (yeah)
time (yeah)
Mama you wine fine (C3 sweetheart)
Mama you, mama you
Mama, mama you wine fine (Gutta, Trey)
We need some quiet time (yeah)
Mama you
back, get forward, get raised, get lowered
Do some extreme shit, keep from bein' bored
Now it's double up, hoes come a nickel a dozen
They get hot
linen by Armani, check it
My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat
High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit
in my circumference,
Fly like Takeoff
You just spinoff
My dick get off
My dick get off
This shit lit like bic, bitch we on
This shit lit like bic, bitch we on
Fly like
Blaize I hate you
Fly like Takeoff
You just spinoff
My dick get off
My dick get off
This shit lit like bic, bitch we on
This shit lit like bic, bitch
Fly to LA
For some pictures
Then come and try me
"Step up yo game nigga
You need to get behind me"
Get
Get
Get
Getting to pick up
Having
(hey!) fresh like some new J's (yeah!)
Brodie got next NBA to pay.
I'm too paid! (paid!), shaded, with some ladies
Reppin' my city; West L.A. baby!
he all in my business be the main niggas
Forever gutta real gutta shit fuck who aint wit us
Wish I could wear all this shit at once but I cant nigga
it to my face
Cause I'm a gutta bitch, I do it like no other bitch
Bitches wanna trip but lately, I been on some other shit
Gotta chase a bag fuck,
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