Kurxxed Emeraldz - Alt Version
Hear-hear-
I make-I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I'm on the other side of fear, I want to fucking disappear
That boy busting here on the one though
No V though (That kid over there, he got what-)
And she sexy-
Uh
Everything is fucking pointless, I'm not even really here (JEWELX)
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking-
Other side of fear, I want to fucking disappear
I barely fit in with my peers, I ain't been happy in some years
You always fuck with niggas, ho, my niggas know that you a thot
You a bitch we got the drop, on your ass, you gettin' popped
Yeah, your ass be gettin' shot, my nigga swipe your fucking head off
Nigga, fuck it what they sayin', and you think I'm fucking playing
Ain't nobody fucking playing, shorty hit my phone again
That bitch mad I'm born to win
I'm back on it now but I'm doing it again
Pull up to your ass it's your old one again
I ain't call no one to get on a bitch
I aint no got no type now, let me give a hoe these bands
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
Maserati, ride with a trident on the front
AR in the passenger, another AR in the trunk
I pulled up into the park just so I can roll a boof
Bruh, I'm good, I don't want to hit your skinny ass blunt
In the hood, campin' out, jumpin' out if you fled
Tryna run and you done, you get shot in the back
Taking pics with that gun, nigga, that's not your strap
On the net making threats, nigga, that's fucking whack
Tryna trip in the club, nigga, your ass get clapped
Cause your bitch in the bed, how you feel 'bout that?
Niggas fake, niggas crip, I don't fuck with the act
I just stick to the script, and I flip for the racks
And this thick looking bitch who be smart to the crib
She in the passenger, yeah, she eating dick, need a bib
See an opp, I'ma make a mess like I'm eating ribs
She like, "Axx, boy, I love your ass, can I get a kiss?"
Fuck a watch, I don't fuck with time, got an empty wrist
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make-I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I'm on the other side of fear, I want to fucking disappear
That boy busting here on the one though
No V though (That kid over there, he got what-)
And she sexy-
Uh
Everything is fucking pointless, I'm not even really here (JEWELX)
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking-
Other side of fear, I want to fucking disappear
I barely fit in with my peers, I ain't been happy in some years
You always fuck with niggas, ho, my niggas know that you a thot
You a bitch we got the drop, on your ass, you gettin' popped
Yeah, your ass be gettin' shot, my nigga swipe your fucking head off
Nigga, fuck it what they sayin', and you think I'm fucking playing
Ain't nobody fucking playing, shorty hit my phone again
That bitch mad I'm born to win
I'm back on it now but I'm doing it again
Pull up to your ass it's your old one again
I ain't call no one to get on a bitch
I aint no got no type now, let me give a hoe these bands
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
Maserati, ride with a trident on the front
AR in the passenger, another AR in the trunk
I pulled up into the park just so I can roll a boof
Bruh, I'm good, I don't want to hit your skinny ass blunt
In the hood, campin' out, jumpin' out if you fled
Tryna run and you done, you get shot in the back
Taking pics with that gun, nigga, that's not your strap
On the net making threats, nigga, that's fucking whack
Tryna trip in the club, nigga, your ass get clapped
Cause your bitch in the bed, how you feel 'bout that?
Niggas fake, niggas crip, I don't fuck with the act
I just stick to the script, and I flip for the racks
And this thick looking bitch who be smart to the crib
She in the passenger, yeah, she eating dick, need a bib
See an opp, I'ma make a mess like I'm eating ribs
She like, "Axx, boy, I love your ass, can I get a kiss?"
Fuck a watch, I don't fuck with time, got an empty wrist
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
I make songs for you to hear and niggas barely fucking hear 'em
Credits
Writer(s): Unknown Composer Author, James Dear
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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