Video de: Youre Dead Lyrics Aldivino » Lyrics Fox.MusicaDe.Win

Aldivino - Youre Dead Lyrics

You’re DEAD Lyrics[Intro]
Sniper
Fuck outta here

[Verse 1: al.divino]
Ayo, them fed ones, watch 'em, watch 'em
I'm on one like Washington (I'm on one)
From the oxycontin capital, Kapital joggers
700 sawed-off shotgun, catch a hot one
Rerock the product, triple the profit margin
Margielas with the plane on 'em
Trap 'til late in the morning, make a fortune
Don't shake the hornets nest
Grenade launcher, spliff straight exotic
Got your bank account in my closet (Word)
Scrape the pot for the cake
Force of the wеight worth it, just wait on it (Just wait, man)
You just fake important
Bummy like fake Jordans from thе gas station
Washed like laundromats, I was made for this (You know)
And all that, razor blade a blade of sawfish
Every shot out the G-lock swish
It might got a little history, but it don't got this (All that, motherfucker)
Plot twist, now we 'bout to make the whole block rich
Watch this (Watch this), watch this, nigga

[Chorus: al.divino & Crimeapple]
'Bout a bankroll (Bankroll, wow)
Shit hot out here (Out here), gotta lay low, lay low, huh
Make dough
If not, we gon' take throat, huh (Take throat, what's up, bitch?)
Watch your bitch, we break hoes
'Bout a bankroll (Bankroll)
Shit hot out here (Out here), gotta lay low, lay low, huh
Make dough (Oh, word?)
If not, we gon' take throat, huh (Take throat)
Watch your bitch, we break hoes (Ayy, wow)

[Verse 2: Crimeapple]
I knew the code
Rap dudes couldn't break my ho with a pole
I break your ho, that's a quick stroll through the grove, you know?
Your bitch chose
Gotta be easy when we talkin' to guys who broke and to guys who probably reside in multiple homes (Grr)
We might be on the same record, but we don't got the same record
Fuck Veuve, trips to the Louvre is how my day's measured (Woah)
Dudes ain't hop off the porch step
I keep goin' around the world, more or less
'Nother small fry, I lift him up with the forceps (Woah)
Shit get gory in that Gore-Tex
Tell your story and toma, went more sketch
You're hopeless like the scent of dope on a whore's breath
You dead, Benzitos, I'm on my fourth one
Dude's really a marathon for kids, you on a short run
More guns, more Cubans, more diamonds that's intrusive
Got here without needin' a rapper to cosign my music, stupid
Y'all gotta watch me from the nosebleeds, please
You got an OG, me, I'm the OG, I got a bankroll, hah

[Chorus: al.divino & Crimeapple]
'Bout a bankroll (Bankroll, wow)
Shit hot out here (Out here), gotta lay low, lay low, huh
Make dough
If not, we gon' take throat, huh (Take throat, what's up, bitch?)
Watch your bitch, we break hoes
'Bout a bankroll (Bankroll)
Shit hot out here (Out here), gotta lay low, lay low, huh
Make dough (Oh, word?)
If not, we gon' take throat, huh (Take throat)
Watch your bitch, we break hoes (Ayy)

[Outro: al.divino]
Fed one
Shit came out aight, you know what I mean?
We had a lil' buzz goin' with the record and the nigga played himself and spit the verse on another record, you know what I'm sayin'?
Guess he wasn't that talented
Yeah, I don't wanna get into that, no names, but, um
I've, no— no-nothin' happened, though