Paroles de la chanson Heating Up par Polo G

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Paroles de la chanson Heating Up par Polo G

Mmm (According to a spokesman)
We pull up and we send hot shit
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy
Uh, uh

I been stackin', runnin' up them rackies in the trenches
With my niggas, fuck the opps, we dump the district
I ain't signin' on no deal unless they talkin' 'bout some figures ('Less they talkin' 'bout some)
Put that bag on top your head and have your partner come and kill you
I know sometimes I be turnt up, they claim they left my homie burnt up
Ain't no way we can chill, this [ELO ?][0:26] kill and get your head clucked
This blicky with me, if it gеt too fishy, we gon' send it up
We gеt busy, I ain't hard to find, you ain't look hard enough (You ain't look hard enough)
Down bad, I was just down bad on my ass
I started with a couple racks, I lost them all and got 'em back (Ah-ah)
They gripped my homie 'cause the other side was workin' with the feds
When I got caught up for them things, ain't say a thing, go 'round and ask (Go 'round)
I be trippin' off them things, I pop the X, get in my bag (I pop the X)
I don't like totin' normal blicks, all of these Glocks got somethin' attached
That bitch go brrt, and that's another nigga packed, who wan' match?
Them niggas sweet for that lil' one shit that we did, they ain't get back
We got the drop on all of y'all, I'm just deciding who to whack (Just decidin' who to whack)
Lil' bro'll pull up and let off a couple shots from out this TEC
So we don't sit at restaurants, these niggas mad I'm in my act (Skrrt, skrrt)
We pull up on him, he take off but he ain't faster than this MAC
Pour a double cup of Quilly, bitch, I'm litty, opps ain't fuckin' with me (Opps ain't fuckin with me)
Hundred clip the Drac', the police said we fuckin' up the city
Since my lil' homie died, go ask the opps (Skrrt), every day, it been a killin'
Forever we still slidin', I'm with G-Boy, Mr. Go And Get Him

[Polo G]
Them lil' shorties dangerous, they've been blocked just for the hell of it
We gon' keep on lampin', bitch, that's how you let that pressure hit
All my homie like is shootin' dice and shootin' at the bricks
Ever since my lil' bro brothers died, he always kept a stick
I remember hustlin' and robbin', tryna catch a lick
I was out there knee-deep in that field like Colin Kaepernick
My lil' snipers, they don't give a fuck, man, they'll whack a bitch
I just sent the addy to her DM, now my mansion lit
Splatter shit, foenem pop out cuts and let that hammer spit
Stingy with my ex, you can't touch this, no MC Hammer shit
Always by my lonesome or I'm linkin' up with my savages
Think twice 'fore you run up, all my gunners get to clappin' shit
Sundown 'til the sunup, pick a gun up, who you ridin' with?
You would think the block a barbershop the way we linin' shit
Can't wait for the summer, Glocks with drums, we got all kind of shit
My lil' nigga, he don't got it all, he get to spazzin' quick dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)

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