Shawty fye😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

bleed (fio & wtfricko)

assumptions w/brysin

Glide Ft. luhyux

Mad (rookstr)

lyrics:

Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh,
Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh,
Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh,
Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh

In a two door whip,
In a all black coupe

Might fuck dis bih,
Then fuck her crew

Then pop my shi,
She love it too

Then pop my shi,
She love it too

Then pop my shi,
She fw kuup

No i cannot miss,
yea I like being rude

I got cold veins yea,
Like a reptile

(Yea, yea)
She wanna give me brain,
All up in her mouth

Feel like kurt cobain,
Tryna make momma proud

No i'm not j cole yea,

Not no middle child,
I was the oldest child,
Feel like "show me how"

Like "men i trust"
The racks i trust

You don't get it feeuh
You don't want me yeeuh

Lil ho want me now
Lil ho want some clout

I remember i was broke,
yea in that house
(I remember i was broke,
yea in that house)

In a two door whip,
In a all black coupe

Might fuck dis bih,
Then fuck her crew

Then pop my shi,
She love it too

Then pop my shi,
She love it too

Then pop my shi,
She fw kuup

No i cannot miss,
yea I like being rude

I got cold veins yea,
Like a reptile

(Yea, yea)
She wanna give me brain,
All up in her mouth

Feel like kurt cobain,
Tryna make momma proud

No i'm not j cole yea,

Not no middle child

(Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh,
Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh, Feeuh)

Popmyshi/Fw kuup (theylovechiko)

I dont want ur luv (prod.kjmadeit)

can i
hold hands
on our
deathbeds 

maybe
i’m in heaven

religion 
is a weapon

i dont wanna know
yea that shit is gonna hurt
i load it up with bullets 
see the blood its on my shirt

i just wanna know why she’s tryna make it worse
this could be your last why you tryna make it hurt
my dear

heaven is a place i cant find
tell me if its real but dont lie (cuz i dont wanna know)

i’m strung out im in a heavens high

i prayed to an empty sky
why do you insist i confide

heaven is a place we have
i dont wanna know

but heaven is a place we have
i dont wanna know if its real or not

just listen to me
i dont wanna know
i dont wanna know
alright

can i
hold hands
on our
deathbeds 

maybe
i’m in heaven

religion 
is a weapon

i prayed to an empty sky (heaven is a place we have)

Lyrics: 

(You are now experiencing to the full effect of krunk music.)

Fuck yo music, that shit blunt
That shit boring, like my aunt

Want the bread, like croissant
Want some cheese, parmesan

I can’t eat, don’t  want nun’
I don’t beef, nonchalant 

I feel sick, poison 

This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk

Yeah a nigga having fun, 
But nigga i want funds

Yeah a nigga came from nun,
I’m the real kunt

Yeah i’m the one in charge nigga ain’t no refund,
He said he ain’t trying hard (why lie) Boi you trying hard

Make this music for the high, yeah it feel good
Fall in love for the high, yeah it feel good
Higher than the fucking sky, yeah it feel good


(You are now experiencing to the full effect of krunk music.)

Want the bread, like croissant
Want some cheese, parmesan

I can’t eat, don’t  want nun’
I don’t beef, nonchalant 

I feel sick, poison 

This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk
This that Music Getcha’ Krunk

Krunk Musik (xmanprod)

Cruisin feat jaime! (TwicKz)

Dirt$Bag (prod Jusrese)

mixed & mastered by me 

Lyrics:

Do this on my Lonesome
I stay on my own
I stay, I stay on my Lonesome
Do this on my own

I stay, I stay on my dolie
Roll, Rollin'  hella dodi
She, She fuck with my brodie
Tryna hit me on the low

I still play with 40's
But I still ain't buy my own
I, I ran out of doja
But I'm still gon' pour my four

I'm tryna count my racks
Now your bitch tryna interact
You talkin' bout takin' her out to saks
I'm talkin' bout beatin' it from the back

Sometimes I really cannot lack
Cause I got demons on my back
Bitch, I put pain inside my gas
But that pain don't ever last

I be pullin' up with 40's
Sometimes I cannot lack
They be making hella stories
Sometimes I can't relax

I be chillin' on the lowkey
Just tryna count my racks
And goddamn, I miss my OG
But there ain't no comin' back

(If I had a heart)

Do this on my Lonesome
I stay on my own
I stay, I stay on my Lonesome
Do this on my own

I stay, I stay on my Dolie
Roll, Rollin'  hella dodi
She, She fuck with my brodie
Tryna hit me on the low

I still play with 40's
But I still ain't buy my own
I, I ran out of doja
But I'm still gon' pour my four

But I'm still gon' pour my four
And I'm still gon' pour my soul
And I'm still gon' roll my dough

And I'm stayin' locked in
We comin' kickin' down your door
Come and see who I really am
I'ma take them Benjamin's

I got blood up on my jeans
And A.R.P's is up inside
Got blood up on my hand's

The pussy boy was tryna die
What was that young boul thinkin'
That young boul was probably fried

Mad (rookstr)

Kuupa6

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