Missiles (feat. Trippie Redd) Lyrics – GNAR, Trippie Redd
Singer: GNAR, Trippie Redd
Title: Missiles (feat. Trippie Redd)
Baguettes, they fall off my neck
I’m smoking that Za to the chest (Pressure)
Ran that **** up off the muscle (Dig)
Walk with the Glock, I don’t tussle (Dig)
n#gg#s talk ****, it ain’t nothing (For real)
Three hundred all cash how I’m coming (Uh-huh)
I’m a real rockstar, came from the trenches
Now I got *****es on *****es on *****es (Yeah, yeah)
Throw him the cutter, my young n#gg# hit you
He just gon’ get your #ss for a lil’ fifty (Yeah)
Ballin’ out just like I’m Madden
Excuse my bad language, I think I’m thе **** (Yeah, for real)
Take a PJ out to Cali to grab somе biscotti, it’s smelling like piss
Doubled up (Dope), I’m pouring my stress in this double cup
Remember I ran my first hundred up (Hundred up)
My Draco got t#tt#es, a honey bun (Honey bun)
Shoot in the crowd, you ain’t takin’ my chain
Your #ss finna crash out, you swerve in my lane (No kizzy)
Only do Guapanese, speaking that language (Cash)
My young n#gg#s Brims, they twistin’ they fingers
I swerve in the Double R, keep me a banger (Yeah)
Couple snow bunnies, they stay in Topanga
Brushin’ my WAP with some toothpaste (Toothpaste)
VVS on my gums, ain’t no tooth fake (Tooth fake)
R.I.P. Nip, need a blue Wraith (R.I.P.)
These diamonds HD like a Blu-Ray (HD)
She eat out the kid like a buffet (Yeah)
I been raw as ****, you just too late, yeah (Yeah, yeah)
Slurp it up, *****, make it messy (Hell yeah)
When I pull up, you hear the ‘Vette (Hell yeah, skrrt)
Baguettes, they fall off my neck (Hell yeah, for real)
I’m smoking that Za to the chest (Hell yeah, dig)
Ran that **** up off the muscle (I ran that **** up)
Walk with the Glock, I don’t tussle (Walk with the ****in’ Glock)
n#gg#s talk ****, it ain’t nothing (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Three hundred all cash how I’m coming (Hell yeah)
Your ***** blew me like a whistle (Whew)
I keep me two pistols, I feel just like Texas Ranger (Bah)
Know that I keep me some missiles (Gang)
Won’t be hard to hit you, lil’ *****, I ain’t gotta aim (Yeah, okay)
Know that I drip in Versace, Armani my body (Yeah)
Lil’ *****, it ain’t got a stain (Yeah, woo)
I count hundreds and fifties
I take your lil’ to Johnny and buy me a new chain
Every day is a movie, I keep me some clips
Lil’ n#gg#, I shoot ’em like Blu-Ray (Yeah)
My lil’ baby flyin’ like she up in the skies, she up like a blue jay (Yeah, yeah)
Just bought an AP and deep dished that ***** with a red face (Yeah, yeah)
Heard n#gg#s in the streets talking, I ain’t worried ’bout what the dead say
Slurp it up, *****, make it messy (Hell yeah)
When I pull up, you hear the ‘Vette (Hell yeah, skrrt)
Baguettes, they fall off my neck (Hell yeah, for real)
I’m smoking that Za to the chest (Hell yeah, dig)
Ran that **** up off the muscle (I ran that **** up)
Walk with the Glock, I don’t tussle (Walk with the ****in’ Glock)
n#gg#s talk ****, it ain’t nothing
Three hundred all cash how I’m coming (Hell yeah, yeah)
Slurp it up, *****, make it messy (Hell yeah)
When I pull up, you hear the ‘Vette (Hell yeah, skrrt)
Baguettes, they fall off my neck (Hell yeah, for real)
I’m smoking that Za to the chest (Hell yeah, dig)
Ran that **** up off the muscle (I ran that **** up)
Walk with the Glock, I don’t tussle (Walk with the ****in’ Glock)
n#gg#s talk ****, it ain’t nothing
Three hundred all cash how I’m coming (Hell yeah)
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Lyrics GNAR, Trippie Redd – Missiles (feat. Trippie Redd)
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