Red Rum Lyrics

All red gt, dipping in that turning lane, Red rum gudda bitch,

I come here to murder lames Ymcb,
call that shit the murder game The booth is like a coffin,
when I get in here I murder thangs I’m on one,
where them hoes at They want a picture with me,
call me Kodak Johhny cope nigga,
I let them hole that Real nigga though,
but you already know that
Lego, I’m on the paper chase and I ain’t stopping for a second
I was starving then I ate and now I’m back here for my seconds
I am living out my dreams, chilling with your queen And her legs and
her thighs is where I’m tryina get between Man I’m tryina get in loose,
patron mixed with the juice Louisiana mood nigga coming straight from out the booth
And I’m spitting on you bitches like I got a missing tooth David Copperfield roof,
hit the button nigga poof I’m on fire, I’m on fire, pistol singing like the choir Get your girl in my bed, make her hit high notes like Mariah Man my cup is still muddy, dirty sprite I love it Hit the party, spike the punch man I be thugging it in public I’m a wild boy, strapped like a cowboy 2 revolvers in the holster, click pow boy Fuck next nigga, I got 9 boy, dope flow, have some coke and a smile boy
Red rum nigga, red rum I’m coming murda shit, bitch here I come Red rum nigga, red rum I say I’m coming murda shit, bitch here I come
Believe me when I tell you boy, ain’t a soul stopping mine It’s mob but best believe, we throwing up them dollar signs Stop a slime, I make my young niggas turn shit to collabine Trench coat, yappers underneath forget you blocking line We popping 5 I’m on it, just stroll on my opponents Put a hole in the middle where your head is and call that a donut Young and reckless talking reckless, you don’t respect it then you check it Scope on your …you check me I don’t check it 50 grand up in this duffle, I don’t need to double check it Shit I got it from the bird man you might find something extra Ymcb for bindess, god is my witness I’m the sickest nigga spitting, the flow is nasty like syphilis I’m a …big gifted, you niggas is on my shit list 5 thous to the shooter, now niggas is on my hit list Stacking dollar after dollar, boy that’s how the …come Murda 1, click clack, boy we call that red rum