4 IN A FAYGO versuri

Versuri Sematary – 4 IN A FAYGO lyrics

[Intro]
Haunt-O-Holixxx
Gettin’ top in that droptop with the top off
Fuck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off (Du-Du-Du-Du)
Fuck a opp, in that droptop with the top off
Fuck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off
Gettin’ top in that droptop with the top off
Fuck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off (Du-Du-Du-Du-)
(Hauntaholics, you bastard!)
What up, Anvil?
MoundRich season, ho
Grave Man on the beat, make it go insane
Grave Man, woo, woo
HAUNT-O-HOLIXXX THE MIXTAPE, bitch!
Pour a four in a Faygo, Grave Man, Grave Man
Yeah, go (3AM Gang)
MoundRich, bitch

[Chorus]
Pour a four in a Faygo ‘til my mind slow
Pop three, bitch, I pop four, oxycodone
Ride slow with my scarecrows, and they all go
Psycho, we some psychos, better off alone
Rust Cohle, feel like Rust Cohle, I see real ghosts
Stay true, gotta stay true, got a filthy soul
Fly though, I stay fly though, my Haunted Mound polo
All alone at the party, bеtter off alone
Gettin’ top in that droptop with thе top off
Fuck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off (Du-Du-Du-Du)
Fuck a opp, bitch, hell nah, he get curb stomped
Mound boss with my bands up, laughing at y’all
Shawty, looking hot as fuck, dance to this old song
Party, that boy talk tough ‘til he see my gun
Smoking and we rolling, back of the hearse truck
Going dumb, yeah, our brains gone, we don’t give a fuck

[Bridge]
We don’t give a fuck, we don’t give a fuck
Yeah, yeah
Haunt-Haunt-Hauntaholics

[Chorus]
Pour a four in a Faygo ‘til my mind slow
Pop three, bitch, I pop four, oxycodone
Ride slow with my scarecrows, and they all go
Psycho, we some psychos, better off alone
Rust Cohle, feel like Rust Cohle, I see real ghosts
Stay true, gotta stay true, got a filthy soul
Fly though, I stay fly though, my Haunted Mound polo
All alone at the party, better off alone
Gettin’ top in that droptop with the top off
Fuck a cop, make my sawed-off blow his head off (Du-Du-Du-Du)
Fuck a opp, bitch, hell nah, he get curb stomped
Mound boss with my bands up, laughing at y’all
Shawty, looking hot as fuck, dance to this old song
Party, that boy talk tough ‘til he see my gun
Smoking and we rolling, back of the hearse truck
Going dumb, yeah, our brains gone, we don’t give a fuck

Written by: Sematary