- Whole Lotta Grey 歌詞 $uicideboy$ Shakewell
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- Shakewell Whole Lotta Grey 歌詞
- $uicideboy$ Shakewell
- I got, I got
I got, I got (Good to beam up, Scotty)
I got a .40 on my hip, I got a 30 up my nose
I got twenty inch rims, holdin it down with ten toes
I got zero time for hoes (Sorry, ladies), *59 is the gang
Im just sayin how it goes, Im just showin off my fame
All these lames, all these dames, all these chains, I cant do it
All this fame, all these claims, all the same, I think Im movin (Yeah)
Walk wild round my body, Oddy **** with nobody (No )
I make millions off a hobby, still feel anxious in the lobby, yuh
Yeah, its like my soul is made of Richard camouflage
Im in a Dodge in a garage huffin exhaust, huh, yeah
Realest thing about me is my middle name Norman
This whole timе yall have been witnessin my Joker pеrformance (Ha, ha, ha), yeah
I dont give a ****, Im over it
Take me off my leash and then be Ruby the ****in Doberman
Take these cars, outfits, stupid trends off social media
All I see is demons conjuring to pedophilia (Ugh, yall nasty)
I got, huh, I got, huh
I got, I got (Good to beam up, Scotty)
I got Glocks with no kick (Fah), I got Ks with a switch (Yeah )
I got head I cant forget from a young New Orleans witch (Bitch)
I got Xans in my—, I got, uh, lemme check
Thats your whole lifes work on my mother*** *in wrist (Ooh-ooh)
I got chains all wet (What), I got pain in my glass (Yeah)
**** your song, I dont care (Nuh)
** ** your gang, it dont compare (Grey)
If I hang this in the air
Gotta tat it on my throat (What)
Im the [?] in my [?]
Change my legal name to G.O.A.T. (Wet, wet , wet)
She like, 'Oh my God, why you go that hard?'
Everything that Wetto touch, it turn to avant-garde
Mojo, then pull up hard, just put some in my arm
They call me Checkmark Shawty, shoot like Jason Bourne (Shoot, shoot, shoot)
Shakewell need a hunnid pack, throw my dawg a hunnid racks
Carryin the game, you would think I got a hunnid backs (North)
Googlin my net worth, that wont even cover tax
Still that boy up out the shack, fix your mouth and run it back (Wet)
I got, I got
I got, I got (Good to beam up, Scotty)
I got nothing else to say that already aint bein said (Oh no, no)
I got people want me dead cause of messages I aint read (I aint read)
I got fifty-nine problems, I solve em with FNs (FN, yeah)
Nine times out of ten, it be always your best friend (Best friend, yeah)
I got sweat, drippin fit, Im a poison
Demons dance around, cut em down with my forces
She cream on my cock when she bop in her corset
Ima hug the block with my Hellcat and my Kel- Tec, hellbent
**** a mood ring, I got more swings than ARs
Traveling too sus, I put thirty in your new car (Oh no, no)
That boy dont drink, this three hunnid make him blackout
Hit her from the front but this backstroke make her tap out
(Fah-fah-fah-fah)
SMG the *59, it go la-la-la-la
.223 the backline,let it sing, let it sing like my Springfield XD9 (Okay)
Yeah my Glocky Regis Philbin, that boy need a life line (Feel)
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