Letras Web

Till The Angels Come

Domo Genesis

2 acessos

Verse 1: Domo Genesis
I let you niggas have your fifteen
But I'm running next
Don't duck and run, I'm crushing this, son
Just fuck 'em and nothing less
Used to hustle suckers for pack of gushers and dubs of sess
And now I puff some pounds every month
I don't be fuckin stressin'
No need for up(ward) inflection
Got it(guide it) till there's nothing left
Showing no contesting
I'm just laughing at who I'm up against
Buncha frail fucks, bitches with they tails tucked
Hope you ain't thinking we believing the things you tell us
Hope you ain't thinking bout some beefing cuz that's a L brah
Wolf gang coming with that pack like a mail truck
Niggas can not stop me, Doms drops kamikaze
Outloud the chop to the top notch and got it bodied
Smoother than maserati, not in the novice lobby
Nigga watch me droppin that constant shit that you gotta copy
Show me that shit you be on, [I] already got it prolly
Nigga hella cocky on my hustle, don't you fucking knock me

Hook: Domo Genesis
Apply pressure from all angles
To go against it is dangerous
Maintain cause it ain't no thing to us
You niggas claiming that famous stuff
We just staying the same, stacking papers till the angels come

Applying pressure from all angles
To go against it is dangerous
Maintain cause it ain't no thing to us
You niggas claiming that famous stuff
We just staying the same, stacking papers till the angels come

Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs
Ain’t no loving cuz a thug with multiple drug addicts
Rippin’ nigga automobiles with this automatic
Record label drop me, I drop the package to my knees
Flip on some catches, chop some ounces, now I’m even bigger
Stay by the whipper, that gangsta nigga – gangsta shit
Under surveillance, got federal agents at the get
They crackin’ say I’m movin’ things on airplanes
So spare me with the stress, I shot my load to some spare change
Them G packs, back in the streets – jack
Back in the spot that keep the smokin’ off their knee caps
Turning *rookies into regulars could get free shots
I got them duffels, bigger choppers than the police got
And them niggas know it, bigger shit I’m flowin’
I know they gon get me one day in the morning
So when I wake up I praise the Lord, roll up a blunt and fuck my bitch
Make that ass get up and whip it, a turkey, bacon and some criss
Nasty Gibbs
Make that ass get up and whip it, a turkey, bacon and some criss
Smokin’ dodo cu some jungle just got smoked over some priests
Play with y’all just like the west, I’m up for life cuz life’s a bitch

[Hook]

Verse 3: Prodigy
Baby girl tweekin’ on that moon rock
Me, I just keep it simple, let the Dom pop
You let the champagne splash on the girl’s head
It ain’t a party till some champagne glass break
Get in that stupid dough, spittin’ that future flow
Grand poobah bars, the infamous large
This is how I do it, get this money, live large
My head is not a stairway for me, I fire arms
Thugged-out Hippy, super dope with a rap sheet
From the ceiling to the floor, all kind of charge
Counts of robbery, assaults and battery
I’m just a fellow with a talent for spillin’
This Dog-Back-Alley shit over these great beats
Police, Miami means the all when they got me straight to the pound box
Straight up, out well
Curl a nigga body up then peel off in a hot wheel
I thought I told you, these niggas never listen
I popped a Desert eagle off and make ya bitch piss in-
Side of your car, I’m tryin’ to relax
But you push me to the limit, I’mma take you to the max

[Hook]

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