Escucha música Summo de Altosgp 2025 en línea | Musica Lyrics

Altosgp - Summo Lyrics

[Verse 1: Summrs]
Pockets they be on sumo
Lil nigga I already know
Riding 'round smoking on dro
Pulling up in a X4
I'm pulling they card like I'm playing UNO
I'm jugging on them and she taking photos
I'm finna sign a deal for couple racks
Couple racks I'ma make that shit back
Stupid remarks get your lil ass wacked
I'm in New York, where my niggas at?
Dumb ass nigga done fumbled the pack
We taking his shit he ain't getting back
Just took a xan I ain't going back
I'm the reason your favorite rapper mad
Go, woah, woah, yeah

[Verse 2]
Pockets they be on sumo
Lil nigga I already know
Riding 'round with a .44
Pressing lil niggas like a damn remote
I got the keys, yeah, I got the code
And them drugs put me in my mode
I'm in a Telsa riding on the highway
She gon do it my way
Top engine, boy, you don't wanna race
Look at my season just beat the case
I'm high as fuck stuck like I'm in a vase
Niggas think it's safe he ain't even touch base
Thirty clip, nigga, shoot a nigga in his face
D1 gang shoot a nigga in they face
It's Lil Rino, bitch, you gotta embrace
Came up 'cause a nigga had fate
In just a day, guess what I made?
Your whole paycheck, that's what I make
Gucci belt on it and it got snakes
I'm driving the Beam like it was a Wraith
[Verse 2: Kankan]
Hop in a coupe, bad bitch that's a two-door
Cali gas and it got me on Pluto
Pockets fat and them bitches on sumo
Adding it up I was never in school though
She loving this hoe, yeah, boy, he a fool though
Flexed up like a damn competition
D1, send them boys on a mission
All that damn shooting that Glock he ain't missing
Yeah, yeah, yeah, bltt
Got his hoe in the kitchen like right now
You ain't shooting that Glock, boy, better pipe down
Get to bussing that bitch and now I'm out of sound
I'm in LA [?] he got the pound
I get high, yeah, just like a fucking fountain
Look at my wrist, that bitch like a fucking fountain
His bitch on my dick, she be bouncing
Alto on the beat, this is bouncy
Don't do the beef, we get in houses
Number (N)ine on my damn trousers
Pop out the cut shoot the crowd up
Helmut Lang with the Cloud Bust's
Big body like a damn bus
She want to fuck 'cause we clouted up