Rich Amiri- Havoc (Lyrics) ft. Slump6s

Описание: Rich Amiri- Havoc (Lyrics) ft. Slump6s
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Rich Amiri
✗ ‪@RichAmiri‬

Lyrics: Rich Amiri- Havoc (Lyrics) ft. Slump6s

[Intro: Rich Amiri]
Yeah
Yeah
Look, ayy

[Chorus: Rich Amiri]
Fashion, she love my fashion, don't need a caption
Got ratchets, they automatic, they causin' havoc
I'm stackin', I'm countin' cabbage, I had to cash in
You lackin', we pistol packin', we just might splat him
She ride on my dick, no, I ain't talkin' 'bout rodeo, yeah
Plug hit my phone, I send that pack right through the mail, ayy
Tryna kill Amiri, I can't die, so you gon' fail
Got pulled over in a stolo, so you know I had to bail

[Verse 1: Rich Amiri]
He got caught up with that yola, free lil' Stevo out the cell
Finna show the world the real me, get up out my shell
Bitch, I'm rollin' off a fat flat, you couldn't even tell
Hit that boy right with a blatt-blatt, send that boy to hell
I'm in Cali, I just bought a Motorola for my yola
Up in the telly, and this ho, she think she know us, she don't know us
Check my balance, I could takе a fuckin' foreign to Bora Bora
I rock ALYX and that boy, he rock Supremе, I don't endorse it
Know they taxin' for this new lil' Tom Ford, you can't afford it
Automatic in the V, we push a button, then we floor it
I was smashin' on this slut, I told that ho, "You can't record it"
I ain't cappin' on the plug, I made the trap jump like Jordan

[Chorus: Rich Amiri]
Fashion, she love my fashion, don't need a caption
Got ratchets, they automatic, they causin' havoc
I'm stackin', I'm countin' cabbage, I had to cash in
You lackin', we pistol packin', we just might splat him
She ride on my dick, no, I ain't talkin' 'bout rodeo, yeah
Plug hit my phone, I send that pack right through the mail, ayy
Tryna kill Amiri, I can't die, so you gon' fail
Got pulled over in a stolo, so you know I had to bail

[Verse 2: Slump6s]
I'm in LA, coolin' in a highrise and I'm gettin' slow like a snail
Ready to cook a nigga like it's Five Guys if that nigga callin' me Namil
Chopper bullet, it's a five-nine, fight? Nah, I'ma bring 'em hell
And every shirt that I got a medium, but I'm up on XXL
I told 'em tell me somethin' that I don't know, gettin' money, nigga, you could tell
I'm in the trap coolin' with a .44, I get caught, I'ma go to jail
Tell me you hate me, that's a low blow, but you really think that I'd care
Thinkin' you faze me, nigga, oh no, I can't name a nigga I fear
These niggas tweakin' together like BKTHERULA
I feel like Yeat, mix the X and the boot up
Wifin' that ho, you and her really boo'd up
I tried to listen to you and I threw up
No BO3, but I slide with the Kuda
I walk in the party, saw you, I'm like, "Who them?"
I ain't fightin' no more, nigga, I'm finna shoot 'em
Nigga talk on that stream, but I don't even view 'em


[Chorus: Rich Amiri]
Fashion, she love my fashion, don't need a caption
Got ratchets, they automatic, they causin' havoc
I'm stackin', I'm countin' cabbage, I had to cash it
You lackin', we pistol packin', we just might splat him
She ride on my dick, no, I ain't talkin' 'bout rodeo, yeah
Plug hit my phone, I send that pack right through the mail, ayy
Tryna kill Amiri, I can't die, so you gon' fail
Got pulled over in a stolo, so you know I had to bail

[Outro: Rich Amiri]
He got caught up with that yola, free lil' Stevo out the cell
Finna show the world the real me, get up out my shell
Bitch, I'm rollin' off a fat flat, you couldn't even tell
Hit that boy right with a blatt-blatt, send that boy to hell

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