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    Justin Rarri feat. Lil Poppa – Strong [2020]

    Künstler:
    Justin RarriLil Poppa

    [Verse 1: Justin Rarri]
    Bitch you left me with a broken heart
    I was breakin’ down bad on my birthday
    I done seen all the fake in the worst way
    And my brother cross me in the worst way
    And it’s easy to say, “I was stupid all along”
    How the fuck you gon’ break? Lil’ nigga I had to be strong
    Don’t want no question ’bout my life, I gotta be real, I’m not doing a song
    With them niggas
    Them niggas don’t hang with real killers
    And you know that I’m unforgiving
    And he taking that deuce right out his backpack, yeah
    Big ol’ 30, gon’ knock his face, I’m shootin’ them black gats, yeah

    [Bridge: Justin Rarri]
    All them, niggas they cappin’, they stretchin’ the cap, they be strechin’ the
    Fitted, I call ’em Yo Gotti
    All in my DM talking ’bout a BM, the fuck you gon’ do? You ain’t clappin’
    Nobody
    I got sky dweller, tell a bitch I’m the plug, I be swaggin’ all over the Mazzi’
    Inside the Burberry, find a 30 round clip, only shoot if I bust at your noggin’
    Whole gang behind me, if you get it fucked up that’s RIP
    They gon’ have to go some new white tees
    And she feel safer around me
    I got respect in my city, lil’ bitch, go ‘head, try to kill me
    I’ma hurt your whole family feelings (Yeah)
    I’ma let you know, you dying with me
    Because, bitch I be that baby devil
    Blood on my Balenciagas
    Bitch we shootin’ ain’t no problem
    Bro want that, he know I got him
    Thirty deep up, in your place
    Fifty deep, if you want rake
    Young rich nigga, I feel like Mase
    I said, young rich nigga, I feel like Mase

    [Chorus: Justin Rarri]
    I’ma fuck on your treesh and then count on my cake
    Let ’em get you real quick, while I hop on a plane
    When they talking that shit, all up down on your name
    What the fuck you wan’ know me? You just know my name
    I’ma beat that lil’ bih like a batting rink
    What the fuck they be talking? They cappin’ it
    Got a 30 extended, I’m dragging it
    All the lies that they told me, imagine ’em

    [Verse 2: Lil Poppa]
    I just rolled me a blunt, I ain’t passin’ it
    All of my jeans, I’m ashin’ it
    And none of these Glocks average
    Put faith to my brother, he blessed in it
    I done made it out, on some rapping shit
    Still in the hood, on some savage shit
    My new bitch only eat salmon
    She somewhere watchin’ calories
    Probably somewhere fuckin’ in Cali
    I used to post up in the alley
    I ain’t do all the talkin’, don’t @ me
    I pull up if you send an addy
    When I hit it, she call me daddy
    Big dawg, don’t do no braggin
    All the drip, let’s talk ’bout fashion
    Hard work let’s talk ’bout passion
    Tot this heat like a dragon
    Plenty hoes, like a pagent
    This .40 automatic, I hop in then I dash in it
    Let’s skrt, put her on a perc
    I heard her say she hurts
    Now that should work, you don’t need a nurse
    Call me if it get worse
    Her pussy wet, I’m finna surf
    Bitch I’m a hot boy, like I’m Turk
    Signed to the streets like I’m Durk
    Stop hatin’, nigga get you a verse
    All this snitchin’ probably get you hurt
    All the dissin’ probably get you a shirt
    And if I said it then I meant, I’m not twistin’ up my words
    I’m probably posted in the middle of street, holdin’ up birds
    (Middle fingers)
    Like fuck the world, fuck my old girl and bitch fuck what you heard
    And come around with the rider now you just might get served
    Put my trust in niggas word and got everything I deserved

    [Chorus: Justin Rarri]
    I’ma fuck on your treesh and then count on my cake
    Let ’em get you real quick, while I hop on a plane
    When they talking that shit, all up down on your name
    What the fuck you wan’ know me? You just know my name
    I’ma beat that lil’ bih like a batting rink
    What the fuck they be talking? They cappin’ it
    Got a 30 extended, I’m dragging it
    All the lies that they told me, imagine ’em

    [Verse 3: Justin Rarri]
    I moved out the X, like 3 years ago
    New city, with some spanish hoes
    Say they jack me now, they ain’t did before
    I was busy selling glass, I ain’t give a fuck
    Run it up, a nigga got a load
    I ain’t really go to high school
    I was trippin’ off, boy my momma know
    Fuck they talking ’bout, I ain’t really from the A
    Shut your fucking mouth, how you really do me dirty?
    But then get tight when I don’t jack niggas
    Bitch I’m from the BX, I might go to PA for a week and flip another pack
    I don’t chill with nobody, don’t know how to act
    I got bitches on molly, sippin on that yak
    They be telling me “Baby boy, keep your head”
    I be telling ’em “Bitch I’m always with that lead

    [Bridge: Justin Rarri]
    All them, niggas they cappin’, they stretchin’ the cap, they be strechin’ the
    Fitted, I call ’em Yo Gotti
    All in my DM talking ’bout a BM, the fuck you gon’ do? You ain’t clappin’
    Nobody
    I got sky dweller, tell a bitch I’m the plug, I be swaggin’ all over the Mazzi’
    Inside the Burberry, find a 30 round clip, only shoot if I bust at your noggin’
    Whole gang behind me, if you get it fucked up that’s RIP
    They gon’ have to go some new white tees
    And she feel safer around me
    I got respect in my city, lil’ bitch, go ‘head, try to kill me
    I’ma hurt your whole family feelings (Yeah)
    I’ma let you know, you dying with me
    Because, bitch I be that baby devil
    Blood on my Balenciagas
    Bitch we shootin’ ain’t no problem
    Lil’ bro want that, he know I got him
    Thirty deep up, in your place
    Fifty deep, if you want rake
    Young rich nigga, I feel like Mase
    I said, young rich nigga, I feel like Mase


    Künstler:
    Justin RarriLil Poppa


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