Trippie Redd - Missiles lyrics

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Trippie Redd - Missiles lyrics

Intro: Lil Gnar & Lil Pump] D-Diego B-B-Bankroll got it Dig? [Chorus: Lil Gnar] Slurp it up, b*tch, make a mess (Yeah) When I pull up, you hear the 'Vette (Skrrt) Baguettes, they fall off my neck I'm smokin' that 'za to the chest (Pressure) Ran that sh*t up off the muscle (Dig) Walk with the Glock, I don't tussle (Dig) ni**as talk sh*t, it ain't nothin' (For real) Three hundred, all cash, how I'm comin' (Uh-huh) [Verse 1: Lil Gnar] I'm a real rock star, came from the trenches Now I got b*tches on b*tches on b*tches (Yeah, yeah) Throw him the cutter, my young ni**a hit you He just gon' get your ass for a lil' fifty (Yeah) Ballin' out just like I'm Madden Excuse my bad language, I think I'm thе sh*t (Yeah, for real) Take a PJ out to Cali to grab somе Biscotti, it's smellin' like piss Doubled up (Dope), I'm pourin' my stress in this double cup Remember, I ran my first hundred up (Hundred up) My Draco got titties, a honeybun (Honeybun) Shoot in the crowd, you ain't takin' my chain Your ass finna crash out, you swerve in my lane (No kizzy) Only do guap-anese, speakin' that language (Cash) My young ni**as Brims, they twistin' they fingers I swerve in the double R, keep me a banger (Yeah) Couple snow bunnies, they stay in Topanga Brushin' my wap with some toothpaste (Toothpaste) VVS on my gums, ain't no toothache (Toothache) RIP Nip, need a blue Wraith (RIP) These diamonds HD like a Blu-ray (HD) She eat up the kid like a buffet (Yeah) I been raw as fu*k, you just too late, yeah (Yeah, yeah) [Chorus: Lil Gnar & Trippie Redd] Slurp it up, b*tch, make a mess (Hell yeah) When I pull up, you hear the 'Vette (Hell yeah, skrrt) Baguettes, they fall off my neck (Hell yeah, for real) I'm smokin' that 'za to the chest (Hell yeah, dig) Ran that sh*t up off the muscle (I ran that sh*t up) Walk with the Glock, I don't tussle (Walk with the fu*kin' Glock) ni**as talk sh*t, it ain't nothin' (Yeah) Three hundred (Yeah), all cash, how I'm comin' (Yeah, Hell yeah) [Verse 2: Trippie Redd & Lil Gnar] Your b*tch blew me like a whistle (Phew), I keep me two pistols, I feel just like Texas Ranger (Bah) Know that I keep me some missiles, won't be hard to hit you, lil' b*tch, I ain't gotta aim (Yeah, okay) Know that I drip in Versace, Armani my body (Yeah), lil' b*tch, it ain't got a stain (Yeah, woo) I count hundreds and fifties, I take a lil' tootsie to Johnny and buy me a new chain Everyday is a movie, I keep me some clips, lil' ni**a, I shoot 'em like Blu-ray (Yeah) My lil' baby flyin' like she up in the skies, she up like a blue jay (Yeah, yeah) Just bought an AP and deep dished that b*tch with a red face (Yeah, yeah) Heard ni**as in the streets talkin', I ain't worried 'bout what the dead say [Chorus: Lil Gnar] Slurp it up, b*tch, make a mess (Hell yeah) When I pull up, you hear the 'Vette (Hell yeah, skrrt) Baguettes, they fall off my neck (Hell yeah, for real) I'm smokin' that 'za to the chest (Hell yeah, dig) Ran that sh*t up off the muscle (I ran that sh*t up) Walk with the Glock, I don't tussle (Walk with the fu*kin' Glock) ni**as talk sh*t, it ain't nothin' (Hell yeah, yeah) Three hundred, all cash, how I'm comin' (Hell yeah) Slurp it up, b*tch, make a mess (Hell yeah) When I pull up, you hear the 'Vette (Hell yeah, skrrt) Baguettes, they fall off my neck (Hell yeah, for real) I'm smokin' that 'za to the chest (Hell yeah, dig) Ran that sh*t up off the muscle (I ran that sh*t up) Walk with the Glock, I don't tussle (Walk with the fu*kin' Glock) ni**as talk sh*t, it ain't nothin' (Hell yeah, yeah) Three hundred, all cash, how I'm comin' (Hell yeah)