FETTYGUERRERO

[Verse: Al.divino]
(Doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot)
Caught brodie lackin'
The capture was a close casket (Oh, man)
We active, could go toe to toe, we'll toe-tag 'em (Boom!)
Eye for an eye in old fashion, son (You hear me?)
Still by the go line, packin' the boulders
Snow in the trenches, street scholars gutter bones fraction (Spooky!)
I lead the dough winners, the Navy don't measure
The dope, stretch it (Ah!)
Smoke a latin to the head, consecutive bitch (Aha)
How you bummy with money, doggie? (Ha!)
It's supressed then it drip
Put up the gas signal, now we deadin' this, yo (Ding-ding, ding-ding-ding-ding-ding)
Yo
Whip with the Mister Coffe grinder
Have a shawty line 'em (Woo!), Fetty Guerrero
.40 in the linin' like I got a license for it, drop it (Drop it)
A mortal that's more than ryhmin'
Beat the case with a moorish lawyer, know the laws we tied in (Huh?)
Pass the torch to us, watch what we do with it (Right)
My bank account just need one more comma (Chi-ching!)

[Outro: Joe Veras]
La guitarra que llega al alma, sientela