Wet Wet /  Foarte Ud

work

Toy Soldiers

Funky Shit / Foarte Tare

Viral Chinese Violeen Hip Hop Intrumental

Gold Cage / Colivie de Aur

You Walk In Shadows / Tu Mergi in Umbre

Step By Step / Pas Cu Pas

I Hate This Neighborhood - BoCCu BXX - Mixtape 9

Written By: Michael Conover, MATT SCOTT
Produced By: Ricky Conover

“Chickity, check bitch”

Bolt action 9130
Spike bayonet bloody an dirty
Insert stripper clip
Snipe a lackin bitch
Fishin’ for a lick world war kinda shit bitch

Camo cargo pants black
A1’s an a tan FN ya
Scar tissue my forearm bled
So Wrap it up cause an we strikin again
Come back kid
Shawn Michaels
Triple H-P
Motorcycle

100,000 motha fucken bitches wanna eat led
KD astounding
Select fire stalkin camp fires in the redwoods like a vampire
Hungry hippo drain life force

Darth Maul skill with a light sword
Criminal mind walk-in past yuh
Spending the days growing ganja in pastures yeah
Hanging ‘em off of the rafters
Bodies and weeds harvested so much

Cyclically ill jokin round like this comedy Murder an drugs supporting your economy Folding blue bills the bitches astonishing $1,000 heels slutty mentality

Dump a truck full of dead weight on the driveway with that fuckery
Pirate crew southbound empire

Cutlass always out the fucken sheath
Metal head ya gold chains I ain't never givin Y’all shit bitch suck a motha fucken dick an Flip lemme hit it from the back make it rip
Aye

Hellcats just toys German engineering
An a rolls Royce I scare ghosts in the night
Red dot vector 9 white make it bite

Sturdy aim suppressed drum mag beat on they chest through a cheap vest
Yuh my bars crash cars 808 thump hard you see stars hit the deck

Yuh
Wait till’ I come around, watch ‘em hit the deck 
Drop back, glock nine hit you with all this led
Alive but inside I really feel dead 

Used to be there for others, now there’s really nothing left 
Up and down emotions, really got you feelin’ all pressed 

If I want it, I get it, yeah true manifest 
I could flex, but I’d rather these bitches get undressed
Comeback kid 
Graveyard classic “feelin’ like Rich The Kid”
Leave you on read, onto the next “damn that boy slid”

Stay on the run, get off my grid 
Look at the things that I did 
Hit it from the back, make it rip
Hellcat supercharged wrapped in matte-black 
Keep my name in your mouth, I don’t really give a crap (what?)

Bigger fish to fry, with my A1’s on while I drive
You talk big online, really dawg it was all a lie

Y’all care about fame and fortune, more than your own pride
Rather have respect for myself than some wealth 

Told you I had something for your ass 
Now watch me go off like blast from the past 
Takin’ out the garbage, nobody wants to hear your trash 
The next Ricky Bobby “I like to go fast”

1,000 hoes just living for all this cash 
I’m Michael but this ain’t myers, I don’t need no mask (pussy)

Dropped another tape this year, really did the dash 
Three tapes, three hoes in my pool watch me make a fucking splash
“This is a Graveyard Classic”

Angels / Ingeri

Milcoveanu Catalin

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