ฟังเพลงDreadlocks (Explicit)

Song: Dreadlocks

Artist: Young T & Bugsey

Yeah

Deebo

Smoke to your face like a heat stroke

Man down, put that on my dead locs

Man down, put that on my dreadlocks

Shot, shot, shot, shot, T hot

Bust down kettle, not a G-Shock

If she hoppin' in the coupe, it's a bed rock

Lift the suicide doors at the next stop

Shot, shot, shot, shot

Please don't play games

I got niggas in the back with the A

Ay

I don't love her, hit her then I do the race

We can tell by the way

Brodie told me that the trap's doing great

Yeah, I'm so away

I can't save you, gotta leave you in the maze

Push the suicide doors up

Ay, I'm in a Porsche truck

Cooling with a rich porter

D'n'G for my daughter

Yeah, Jimmy Cole for my new bitch

Got quap, move block like rubicks

In the coupe, bust a dance to the music

Drop the top, make her lose it

Deebo

Smoke to your face like a heat stroke

Man down, put that on my dead locs

Man down, put that on my dreadlocks

Shot, shot, shot, shot, T hot

Bust down kettle, not a G-Shock

If she hoppin' in the coupe, it's a bed rock

Lift the suicide doors at the next stop

Shot, shot, shot, shot (Yeah, yeah, yeah)

I was running up and bumming out the big bucks

Got a driver waiting for me, I'm a big shot

16 when I knew I want my wrist flood

Swiss gleam when you're looking at my wristwatch

All the heat, I can't leave it in a cooler

If he in a jeep then he most likely the shooter

See, my niggas in the back came with the ooh-rah

Gotta tell 'em to relax, take a woo-sa

Doing graveyard shifts for my fivers

Who'd have thought I would've went school with some lifers?

Hit it in the past, only found out that he wifed her

Told my bro change but he loyal to the lycah

At the Fendi store but she'd rather go to Michael Kors

Pigs got my niggas dashing 'round the courtyard

Ten toes in my Fours

Still whip it like I'm Louis in the Porsche, yeah

Deebo

Smoke to your face like a heat stroke

Man down, put that on my dead locs

Man down, put that on my dreadlocks

Shot, shot, shot, shot, T hot

Bust down kettle, not a G-Shock

If she hoppin' in the coupe, it's a bed rock

Lift the suicide doors at the next stop

Shot, shot, shot, shot

Rudebwoy stop 'e noise man

Weh yuh know bout bloodclaat good tings?

Weh yuh know bout di shoes yah, dem shirt yah

Dem bloodclaat pants yah?

Stop yuh chattings man