Información de la canción En esta página puedes encontrar la letra de la canción Consignment, artista - Tsu SurfFecha de emisión: 28.01.2019
Idioma de la canción: inglés
Consignment |
| I’m payin' lawyers, never bought a Wraith |
| I’m burnin' cookies for this morning bake |
| I filled that sneaker box, I bought a safe |
| I felt them bullets on my daughter face |
| I coulda died so I ordered steak |
| I was gettin' head, thinkin' damn I could be dead |
| A .40 and a foreign, least two bitches in my bed |
| That casket gotta come, I only fear the feds |
| Them conversations recorded, please be careful what you said |
| Just be making sure that baby straight |
| Friends with them dope fiends |
| Cuz got a pill problem, chasin' Perks with codeine |
| His family ain’t answerin' jail calls, let that phone ring |
| Quarter mil was overkill, I hit him with that whole thing |
| Know I gotta go, it’s a question where they send me |
| She say she never did this but that Fendi make her friendly |
| Hit the kitchen with that Whitney, get to butchin' like I’m Benny |
| I whip it the hard way, won’t short me for a penny |
| I show you what this pain like, Xan pill, plane flight |
| That bitch playin' bourgie, she be fuckin' you the same night |
| Heard he mighta told, I can’t see him in the same light |
| We ain’t have no VVS’s officer these chains tight |
| Go and get a bust-down, double up your plate |
| Anytime that you ain’t ate go and rub it in they face |
| Consignment come from Buffalo, the plug send the bill |
| He ain’t got no bodies, can’t trust him on that drill |
| I count the money, let the bitches choose |
| And make kitchen moves |
| 'Cause being broke at 30 make you miserable |
| You got them stacks I bring a chicken through |
| The way I whip it had captains and lieutenants in my living room |
| I’m established out in Liverpool |
| Countin' racks up while my accountant do my taxes in a different room |
| They puttin' status over principles |
| They ain’t stackin', half these little dudes |
| Just braggin' in their interviews |
| Streets tellin' me y’all got it, had my feet on collars |
| Since my plug gave me narcotics |
| If you tryna match 'em up, send me y’all hottest |
| The work come y’all negotiatin', we all cop it |
| Shit cool ‘til your clique get robbed, a clip get tossed |
| Kill everything, get Chris Benoit’d |
| While y’all buy whips for broads, I bought clips for squads |
| Bodies drop then we lit cigars |
| The Butcher! Let’s go! |