Foreala Songtext
von Chetta
Foreala Songtext
Lately, I don′t really give a fuck about that dumb shit
Fuck that dumb shit mane, fuck that other shit man
Hey, yeah
Fuck feelings, I don't got those
I be curving like Cut Throat
I be swerving them potholes
Probably taking all your hoes
We don′t fuck with no 5-0
I put packs in the bandos
I count racks on the low-low
I'ma have to hit and go-go
I'ma have to hit it woah-woah
I′ma have to hit it slo-mo
Turn a bad hoe to no more
Whole bow just to smoke-smoke
And my choppa just a throwaway
Don′t give a fuck what nobody say
I'm eating off every single plate
Tell ′em fill me up, I want every scrape (Yeah, yeah)
Bitch I'm rolling
Like a eighteen wheelеr
Smoking dope and I hang with them killers
I dip molly, I еat acid on the real, on the reala
Oh, foreala?
Oh, for real?
Oh, foreala!
Always flexy, always worky, I don′t fill up
Why he clutchy, always clutchy on the trigger?
I got bags, I got bags, what you figure?
Hang in the trap, in the trap where I live
Run it for me, bring it back and I'ma surf
All these packs I′m bringing back, a lot of work
I don't even mean to flex but I got work, I got
I'm flex
Bitch I′m flexing now, I got money now
Try and check me now
No you can′t play me now
Know just what I want, want
Know just what you won't, don′t
No-no, I won't front you
Tell me what you want to do
I′m flex
I'm flex
I′m flex
I'm flex
Big Glock in the console
Two pills, that's a combo
I was booming out condos
Pulling out in them quattros
Give no fuck about a follow
I′ve been real since a day old
I tote steel like Shaq-O
I don′t feel none of you hoes
I don't feel none of you hoes
Smoking dope at the fillmore
If I fall I′ma still roll
Painkiller just to feel more
And my heart like a steel door
And my trap like a festival
Come thru but you can't go
I just need to know what′s real tho
Oh, foreala?
Oh, foreala!
Always flexy, always worky, I don't fill up
Why he clutchy, always clutchy on the trigger?
I got bags, I got bags, what you figure?
Hang in the trap, in the trap where i live
Run it for me, bring it back and I′ma surf
All these packs I'm bringing back, a lot of work
I don't even mean to flex but I got work, I got
I′m flex
Bitch I′m flexing now, I got money now
Try and check me now
No you can't play me now
Know just what I want, want
Know just what you won′t, don't
No-no, I won′t front you
Tell me what you want to do
Fuck that dumb shit mane, fuck that other shit man
Hey, yeah
Fuck feelings, I don't got those
I be curving like Cut Throat
I be swerving them potholes
Probably taking all your hoes
We don′t fuck with no 5-0
I put packs in the bandos
I count racks on the low-low
I'ma have to hit and go-go
I'ma have to hit it woah-woah
I′ma have to hit it slo-mo
Turn a bad hoe to no more
Whole bow just to smoke-smoke
And my choppa just a throwaway
Don′t give a fuck what nobody say
I'm eating off every single plate
Tell ′em fill me up, I want every scrape (Yeah, yeah)
Bitch I'm rolling
Like a eighteen wheelеr
Smoking dope and I hang with them killers
I dip molly, I еat acid on the real, on the reala
Oh, foreala?
Oh, for real?
Oh, foreala!
Always flexy, always worky, I don′t fill up
Why he clutchy, always clutchy on the trigger?
I got bags, I got bags, what you figure?
Hang in the trap, in the trap where I live
Run it for me, bring it back and I'ma surf
All these packs I′m bringing back, a lot of work
I don't even mean to flex but I got work, I got
I'm flex
Bitch I′m flexing now, I got money now
Try and check me now
No you can′t play me now
Know just what I want, want
Know just what you won't, don′t
No-no, I won't front you
Tell me what you want to do
I′m flex
I'm flex
I′m flex
I'm flex
Big Glock in the console
Two pills, that's a combo
I was booming out condos
Pulling out in them quattros
Give no fuck about a follow
I′ve been real since a day old
I tote steel like Shaq-O
I don′t feel none of you hoes
I don't feel none of you hoes
Smoking dope at the fillmore
If I fall I′ma still roll
Painkiller just to feel more
And my heart like a steel door
And my trap like a festival
Come thru but you can't go
I just need to know what′s real tho
Oh, foreala?
Oh, foreala!
Always flexy, always worky, I don't fill up
Why he clutchy, always clutchy on the trigger?
I got bags, I got bags, what you figure?
Hang in the trap, in the trap where i live
Run it for me, bring it back and I′ma surf
All these packs I'm bringing back, a lot of work
I don't even mean to flex but I got work, I got
I′m flex
Bitch I′m flexing now, I got money now
Try and check me now
No you can't play me now
Know just what I want, want
Know just what you won′t, don't
No-no, I won′t front you
Tell me what you want to do
Writer(s): Joshua Marchetta Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
