Contactez-nous

• Artiste: 50/50 Twin
• Titre: Cash Stacka's
Assurez-vous que les corrections sont tout à fait exactes
S'il vous plaît, les mettez en évidence en quelque sorte!
Vous pouvez, par exemple, écrire
INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
(feat. Lil' Keke) [talking:] Yeah, 50/50 huh Mob Boss of the Nawf I had to go to the South know I'm saying, reach out Pick up O.G. Keke, he holla'd back know I'm saying We gon tip down, you know I'm saying Dig these blues, ounce for ounce hey [50/50 Twin:] I'm the funky fresh cash stacker, foreign car ass actor Ben Frank bill packer, heater toting hater whacker Goodfellas movie watcher, apple seal trunk popper Crack a smile real proper, diamonds sit inside colossal Bad yella hammer puller, ain't no telling how I do her She a freak I'ma treat her like one, call my niggaz let them run through her Mob boss 50 fe', Southside Don O.G. Keke Steal his rhymes go sell em at school, all them hoes would cheer for me Then I decided to write my own, ever since then crawl some'ing on chrome 36 zone when I would get gone, drop them grams cut the microwave on Lock up slow hell naw, true yola gon come back fast Your shit ain't mirror folds, if Mr. Davis didn't give you the glass Fuck fame money matter, squash the chatter I'm acting badder Donadale blueberry dro, got 50 Twin higher than a ladder Better yet giraffe pussy, I don't hang out with no wussy When it comes to the blow I move it slow, like salt and pepper I push it [Lil' Keke:] I pull out drop top, sunny day rolling hard I'm in the candy coated coupe, with a yellow broad Southside Young Don, I'm a ghost writer I'm in the trap getting paid, like and all-nighter I'm in the school zone, tipping slow riding glass Let up the trunk drop the bumper, and hit the gas I'm known for showing out, acting bad hitting blocks I'm on them rims flipping backwards, they won't stop H-Town on the map, do you hear a G It's 50/50 and Young Don, is you feeling me I chase bread, on the highway and interstate I'm trying to sell about a million, that's plenty weight Down in Texas, we swang on them elbows And keep them shoppers and them boppers, on they tip-toes I'm getting paid off these shows, and spitting flows And when I'm on the Boulevard, I be tipping 4's