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Half-Blood Prince Lyrics - Artist : BabyTron
(Ooh, shit, that's a Danny G beat)
Me and gang flying 'round with sticks like we playing Quidditch Crazy, it don't cost a damn thing for us to pay a visit Back to back to back shots, T-Mac, it won't take a minute VIP at LV, I ain't even wait a minute Working magic with these Visas, would've thought I cast a spell Five figures, guarantee my hitman send his ass to Hell Caught your mans digging in my tray blowing ashy tails Why your mans sitting up in jail? Someone grab his bail Slytherin, the Sorting Hat sense the snake in your blood Put that money down, boy, I go and play with a dub We ain't come to play, paid extra Ks in the club OVO, let it rock and roll, Drac' with the drum Off-White on an off night, this the boss life Let him blitz left, QB, I'ma toss right Your bitch easy, first night, was out her drawers twice Dog life, hellhounds 'round me and they all bite Star player, finna lead my team to victory Unky never stepping out the kitchen 'cause his wrist too sweet Scooby-Doo, hopping out the van, gon' leave a mystery Should've went to Hogwarts, I'm doing wizardry Alright, here, bro, hold the torch Black Dior trench coat, look like Voldemort How you saying I ain't balling? You don't even know the sport Back-shh season, leave his house with a open door 7.62s'll fuck around and slay a dragon I'm just waking up, I'm Mister Make-It-Happen You in the jungle acting tough, you just fake adapting Walking in the stu' high as hell, finna make some captions Riding out in Cali', tinted Sprinter on our tourist shit Thinking that your fit drippy, I got newer kicks Hit your bitch early, hit the stu' from like two to six Bro Sub-Zero, drop the buffs with the bluest tint Sliding with a 201, jam the chip, then dip Lil' bitch need a gold medal how she hit the splits Punch God, fucked the site up 'til they fix the glitch Saks then Finkle back to back, gotta hit the Fifth Alright, here we go, I'm finna take them fuckers on a chase Zaza man, bought a P of Gushers for the taste Three-five of Runtz, bitch, I'm blowing thunder to the face I don't love shit about that bitch other than the face BIN Reaper on my MacBook, I'm your vendor's vendor Boy, you on the wrong track, you need to get your head together Clutch player, boy, I play better pressured Scam God, I'll wear a Nike tech wherever Riding 'round with a Draco, Malfoy Winning now, heard they envy me like CalBoy Brodie off of thirties, popping Percs like they Altoids Jack man, made a quarter ticket off an Android But, you know, happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light |
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