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: al.divino]
Swoop! (Doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot!)
(The fuck?), yeah
Yo-yo-yo, yo, yo-yo-yo, ayo
[Verse 1: al.divino & Estee Nack]
Slang Bob Marley, Van Gogh (Woo), get the whole thing off (Yeah)
Cuddy's jaw is lookin' like Jigsaw when it talk (Oh)
Tab got the whores breathing like Wim Hof (Doot-doot-doot!)
Gemstar astrologist, hit a model bitch with the Apolis
Think I wanted some (Yeah)
Lobster, this prosperous
24K sarcophagus (Bing-bing-bing-bing!)
Kingpin like Carlton Fisk
Get lid twisted like Ortofor, oh shit (Boaw-boaw!)
Call it quits, curate how your coffin fit, style: hominis
Sticks up anonymous (Bing-bing-bing!)
Fiends noddin' off the shits
Sawed off shotty hit your off switch (Lights out!)
Ain't nobody saw shit
Sure flips, see, I done sauce dripped (Drip)
Weed and hawks, still want pills, we pop blicks in broad day (Boaw-boaw!)
Doors check
Sticks like arcade
Raw yay, connoisseur tape, post up by the bodgea and parlay (Yeah)
Disregard where frauds stay
Stowe writer, need a 58 [?]
Pop you like Chardonny (Boaw-boaw)
Selfish say they never sell, the strangers clever by nature, glass elevator ('Vator!)
Carvel cake for cartel, flake pallets from the 357 graisseur (Bing-bing-bing!)
He jeleaous we gettin' paper, light a Newport off of the stove top
Tote Glocks, toast pop, you funny, get co-opted (Boaw-boaw-boaw-boaw-boaw!)
Flip your dope spot
Kick it in if—, kick it in if the dough locked (Bow!)
Drop a smoke bomb
Shooters like so calm, so calm
Split your wig like a proton (Doot-doot-doot!), brolon'
Roll strong, consecutive (Roll!)
Shoot, we let 'em lift, decisions executive
Business and pleasure kept seperate (Yeah)
Need better cribs
Your records is sedative
With extra estrogen, my shit's the essence execpt it's effortless (Easy!)
Dirty ghetto kids without the skateboards
We make more (Money!)
Mystery, never put any food on my plate before (Nah!)
Everything paid for (Son, yo, yeah, yeah!)
[Verse 2: Estee Nack]
Never mind that, send 'em back, then do it again (I'm back!)
Venus flytrap, I done captured you in the wind (Wush!)
The officer yappin', niggas trappin', you in the pen (Woo!)
Hittin' hundred round drums, shit, I'm clappin' you in the chin (Boaw-boaw!)
S500 Benz
Raise the barrel and make the gun instinct
20 Incredible be the wanted men (They want us!)
Catch a few Ls, fuckin' with me is straight punishment (Aha!)
Droppin' the coke in the water, mixin' like open borders (Ad-lib)
Dope for the orderer, a quarter, steak house from Porto (Yeah!)
Rockin' Camouflage like Sgt. Slaughter (Woah!)
My son divino might spark ya daughter
Walkin' on the water, I'm 6-sort-of, grief and throw the title
I'm drippin' Diadora
Trip to Bora Bora, planes high
305 day county, bringin' bitches the base out (Whatup mama?), my niggas stay live
Jump in the crowd, like I'm stage divin' (I'm out!)
Live on the island, bakin' niggas who stay wildin' (Yeah!)
[Outro: Estee Nack & al.divino]
Boaw! Coño! (Woah! Ayy, yeah)
I know they fuckin' with the energy, man (Aha, got it all, yeah, chill!)
It's some new, my nigga, even though y'all niggas used to the style, son (Word)
You know what I'm sayin', 'cause you know the flow is the flow (Yeah!), ya, flowin'
Ya, my nigga, pole lowerin' (ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding, ya could see though)
Nack Super (Playin', my nigga)
Fuck y'all niggas talkin' 'bout, son