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Correct Leathers On Lyrics
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Artists: C
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Capo Lee
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Correct Leathers On
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Lyrics:
[Verse 1: Nico Lindsay] Had a J-O-B, now I'm O-U-T E-R-E Tryna get this paper, G Get another J-O-B with the side hustle Avoid struggle, if low, gotta lay some Cs Keep it straight up on a real, why hide? Some wanna lie Come like lifting a skirt and finding a manly surprise I wanna know the fuckery they tried to disguise I'm dishing out pies, air ones Don't try force 'em in your ear, fear none Keep that shit over there, don't slip over here Get hit in your ear with a sixteen Old school days on [?] sixteen At college in a class with less than sixteen people Then hit ends, he was good in the hood Nuttin' ever good politics in the hood [Break: Capo Lee] Why not? [Verse 2: Blay] I've got niggas on crud I've got niggas that'll run into the home and show you That I've got niggas on crud But when the tool comes out and the shit gets real Now you wanna show a nigga some love? I stay piffing on buds, might diddy with sluts Two bill, now it's Philly in blunts Ain't got time for a bitch [?] Swear in my lifetime, I've smoked over a million scuds A lot of them ah chat about bodies But the only bodies they've got is stepping on bugs, nerds Came to the beef with your hand in your man bag Now you're aiming at birds Why's man aiming at birds? Why's man aiming at birds? Somebody clap this nerd [Break: Capo Lee] Why not? [Verse 3: Rocks FOE] Yo, rally with the greatest Coming against me? Get a tanning and a facelift Man ah get kidnapped like Madeleine McCann They get fried in a pan like a bag of them McCain chips Man wanna talk that shit on the mic I don't wanna listen to what batty man ah say Spit about they trap in the bando but they ain't weighing Bragging 'bout their [?] but they ain't weighing Spitters wanna rally with Rocky as if I'm playing Them spitters lacking backing, they couldn't drop me any day And I'm just saying how it gets like that Fam, I've got talent, know I stress my man Man wanna screw? Know I'm vexed, my man Buss mic talking shit, bun your diss tracks, fam, that's pie Brag on the mic with a bag full of lies Lift up your skirt, I'll kick your bagpipe to the side [Break: Capo Lee] Why not? [Verse 4: Mic Ty] Mic to the wot? The livest, the wot? The levels the highest, the wot? If you know me, I flow tight like a knot Any rave, they're there, dying to watch All-black tracky, I will cycle a block For any man trying or hyping or what Typing or not? I dare they, what? We could swing it out on the airwaves, what? Come again, what? Come again, what? I am not one they could come against, watch Spin you, thank you, come again, boss Chin you, straight hand, come on, they lost Come again losses, come again Ls Mic to the Ty, they know the name well I'm that train in the game, you're all under the rails Got bare CDs, low number of sales, that's dreadful
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