Kevin Gates - Don't Know (Luca Brasi 3) lyrics

Published

0 363 0

Kevin Gates - Don't Know (Luca Brasi 3) lyrics

Pardon the body, wide body switchin' lanes Difference, me and you are not the same Keep goin', steady duckin' methods b**h n***as steady throwin' at me Swim through it, goin' for the cheddar Big dog runnin' through the letters Now I got young n***as slangin' K's, no mistake, and they know better Now I got some sons I done raised, white t-shirts, rockin' J's Trap house through a brick a day, I meant to say they be servin' J's Probably do a nine day in rocks, clear tech tickin', that's a watch Got that out the work, a cell block Closed cell restrictions, C-C-R Still callin' shots on the yard, I don't need a rod, I am the rod Believe in God not a bodyguard Tatted bad, bought a lotta scars Cold heart got my body hard Mills in the lab when I record M's on the table, got employed Drop somethin', perfect timin' for it To hide my scars from the next life, most likely why I dress nice You tell me you just burned somethin', I probably tell you, 'that's nice' Maneuver through the trenches, foreign vehicles headlights Y'all be itchin' when thankin', many might believe it's head lice Jump out, don't get star-struck, clique out, clip wit'cho car up Big Gates just gave her auto, while sippin' coffee at Starbucks Vacuum-seal it all up, resin resembles sawdust I'm him, got many nicknames, they don't know what to call us Transforms speak less, yeah Big d**, we that, yeah I bought a loft to chill, she couldn't stay 'cause her p**y was ill Hit from the back, throw it back, I'm like, 'eeh!' Pull her hair, wrap it up in my wrist Get wit' me, got some money to get Private driver keep the wheel in the road X-ray machine trippin' the load Magnetics, speed thermometer slow Out in Illinois grabbin' 'em whole On the block, caught a trick for a pole On your lap, I could hit you wit' dough On your cap, you get hit for a O [?] bread, holdin' shop in the snow In the back, catchin' that at the store Send money to my n***as for soap On land, I'm a blessin' with clothes Pray to God business never exposed Everybody livin' under the code Real player, I ain't tryna get chose Many call, few only get those [?] tryna soak in your nose Mugged up, kinda show 'em my goals To hide my scars from the next life, most likely why I dress nice You tell me you just burned somethin', I probably tell you, 'that's nice' Maneuver through the trenches, foreign vehicles headlights Y'all be itchin' when thankin', many might believe it's head lice Jump out, don't get star-struck, clique out, clip wit'cho car up Big Gates just gave her auto, while sippin' coffee at Starbucks Vacuum-seal it all up, resin resembles sawdust I'm him, got many nicknames, they don't know what to call us