Soul Reaper Lyrics Quando Rondo

Soul Reaper Lyrics Quando Rondo

Soul Reaper Lyrics Quando Rondo

Ha
They got me fucked up if they thinking I ain’t gon’ rock out
(Damn, Jam, this shit a vibe)

They got me fucked up if they thinking I ain’t gon’ rock out like I’m pussy
Don’t call the cops, we draw the chops, switch on the Glock, hit like a fully
Holding thirty shots, scrap with my rod
Wait ’til it’s dark, jump out the bushes
We screaming, “Fuck a nine to five,” I’m on the block gripping a toolie
All out the roof, that stick go boom, bam
Rundown, chopper, love the gun sound
I know they hate I live a gangster lifestyle
Can’t go nowhere without that banger ’cause my life wild
Nigga ran up on me then we sprayed him, I’m talking lights out
Wе do the dash in that Derango, jumped out with that pipе out
So tell ’em pipe down

My grandma told me that I’m close to my casket, that’s why i keep a ratchet
Thirty clip on me with that stick in the backseat
Lets see who ’bout that action
Switch on that MAC, yeah we gon’ up it and blast it, this bitch automatic
He made a diss, wait ’til the day that we catch him, we gon’ see who really savage
I had to cut off my lil’ bitch for treating me like a marriage
Jump out that tree gripping that stick and let that fuck nigga have it
Load up them Glocks, walk down the street, we gon’ through this shit here forever
Extension stock, G23, I’m tryna knock off a rapper

I’m on my block, boy, come and creep, I don’t think you want no real static
I don’t give a fuck ’bout who got beat, it’s ’bout who got turned to ashes
We steady passing out scratches, tats on my back Famous Dexting
I’m from the bottom of the ‘jects, we bang 6-0 in my section
Girl, you ain’t more than my best friend, I only trust in that Wesson
We hit the A, I-95 then bought some Glocks out the West end
.223 and .556, I better cave that boy chest in
Realest shit I heard from my lil’ partner is like load up that [?]

They got me fucked up if they thinking I ain’t gon’ rock out like I’m pussy
Don’t call the cops, we draw the chops, switch on the Glock, hit like a fully
Holding thirty shots, scrap with my rod
Wait ’til it’s dark, jump out the bushes
We screaming, “Fuck a nine to five,” I’m on the block gripping a toolie
All out the roof, that stick go boom, bam
Rundown, chopper, love the gun sound
I know they hate I live a gangster lifestyle
Can’t go nowhere without that banger ’cause my life wild
Nigga ran up on me then we sprayed him, I’m talking lights out
We do the dash in that Derango, jumped out with that pipe out
So tell ’em pipe down