Musica de Aldivino del Genero: Lyrics Todos los artistas y cantantes de música de Lyrics son individuos talentosos y apasionados que dedican su vida a crear y compartir su arte con el mundo. Su música de Aldivino tiene el poder de emocionarnos, inspirarnos y conectarnos a un nivel profundo. En este blog FoxMusicaDe, exploraremos el mundo de los artistas y cantantes de música del genero Lyrics, destacando su dedicación, creatividad y contribuciones a la cultura.
Los artistas y cantantes de música tienen la capacidad única de expresar sus emociones y experiencias a través de su voz y talento musical. A través de sus letras y melodías, nos llevan a un viaje emocional y nos permiten conectarnos con nuestras propias emociones.
Además de su talento musical, los artistas y cantantes son verdaderos profesionales en su campo. Trabajan arduamente para perfeccionar su técnica vocal,
[Intro]
Swoop (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!), aha
Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow! You already know
Ayo-yo-yo, yo
[Verse]
I need the moor tenements with black marble (Woo!)
Rata-tat-tat, better rag your white hand and rat on you (You hear me?)
Son
Y'all unstable, we stayin' sturdy
Ride my way, we lucky to see thirty, jump off the porch early (Brrt! Brrt! Brrt!)
Cannot afford a birdie, can't even afford an attorney (Fuck!)
Dime bitch suck me like Kirby (Ay!)
AK clip with the curve on it (Brrt! Brrt!)
Y'all ain't dead to y'all selfs, want my first solid (Fuck outta here!)
Hundred-dollar CDs, I know you heard about it, an absurd amount money I'm countin', weed I burn the loudest (Trunk!)
Ain't nobody ever gon' play me, I won't allow it (Nah!)
All my bitches got good credit and low mileage (Swoop!)
Real low, TEC with the airholes, there ya go (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)
Y'all talk a lot but ain't prepared though (Nah)
I be in the field just like a scarecrow (I'm out here!)
So if we cross paths better be careful, son (You hear me!)
Tapped in, kick the door to your trap in, for taxin' (What you doin'?)
The MAC-10 in the black Benz (Brrt! Brrt!)
Ten toes, I don't chase, I get chose (Ay!)
Fuck the finest from yellow to red bones (Swoo!)
I don't need friends, I need Benz (Dough)
No matter, we're we eatin' off each gram (We eatin' over here!)
Pistol whippin' with it if the Heat chant (Blow! Blow! Blow!)
One-eighty-seven see it on C-Span, son (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)