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Woulda Coulda Shoulda lyrics

Performers BabyTronCertified Trapper

Woulda Coulda Shoulda song lyrics by BabyTron official

Woulda Coulda Shoulda is a song in English

Hey
(Meech)

Russian Creams in natural leafs, I don't smoke grape
Zottarooni X the wax, I don't smoke Bape
I've been tryna catch this half for like four days
I got boy and a girl, they want both ways
All this ice, I might cause a fuckin' snow day
Think he fuckin' with us, then his name must be Jose, it's no way
Bum-ass nigga, I'm the brick man
I'ma cock it back, shoot it if my blick jam
All I do is click one to call my fuckin' hitman
Bustdown, do the turd, bitch, I'm the shit man
Pockets lookin' stuffed, could fit another ten
Yeah, them niggas cool, we don't fuck with them
You got lil' boy chicken, this some fuckin' ham
You might catch me out in Tokyo just uppin' yen
Glock 32 shots, I might glitch a ten
All these fuckin' missed calls think I'm servin' meds
Monkey on my hoodie, but I'm not the middle man
Furry Marnie vest, it's lookin' like a Skittles bag
See this Glock with the switch? I'm finna get your ass
Come through crawlin' through your bushes, it'll get like that
Ooh, how this bitch do the splits like that?
I think she want my kids, like why she kiss the dick like that?
All that fuckin' ass, why you sit like that?
Spend fifty up in Johnny, I get right back
Hittin' all them licks, you gon' die or get a kit like that
I just bit a fifteen, that bitch bit right back
Don't try to rob me, get killed like that
I'ma put it to his head and hit his hat
I'm the type to stand out while I'm sittin' back
Lamb' trucks nowadays, we used to trip in tracks
I just fucked your lil' bitch, here your kitten back
You ain't got no real food, you just hittin' 'Lac
Ghost Glocky, I ain't never took a pistol class
Everybody should've wore a mask, the whole kitchen smacked
The hoods, the juggs, the would've's, the should've's, the could've's
We play a cold game, you could never fuck with us
I be with the pushers, whole time, I was with some wolfers
All I gotta do is give the look to Bean and he gon' he gon' cook him
I don't even gotta pop the bean, I'ma whoop him
You can give me twenty, nigga, ten, I'ma cook him
How the fuck is he a rapper? Who the fuck gon' book him?
Throwin' 'oops behind the back, I'ma fuck around, no look 'em
Unky got the babies in, who you think gon' push 'em?
Unky got the babies in, who you think gon' whoop 'em?
.556 hit his spinal cord, fuck up his footin'
Whippin' fetty in the pot, it's lookin' like some pudding
Hit that nigga fetty with some Wap, have that nigga shooken (Meech)
Two Glock switchy ridin' hot (hot)
Lyrics copyright : legal lyrics licensed by Lyricfind.
No unauthorized reproduction of lyric.
Writers: Daishun Graham, James Johnson IV
Copyright: EMPIRE PUBLISHING

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