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EBK (feat. Jay Wst) Video (MV)




Performed By: Don Flare
Language: English
Length: 2:22
Written by: Elijah Berry




Don Flare - EBK (feat. Jay Wst) Lyrics
Official




(Gang)
(No way, no way, no way)
(Gang)
(Wooo, yea, yea yea)
(Gang)
(Gang, holon, gang, holon)
Its a opp in the spot he get picked off thirty on me and im rollin too deep
Pussy boy shooting his kicks off
(Kicks off)
Hop out the V shooters elite
F*ck you think I got a grip for
(Boom)
Slide in traffic, we gon clap em
Bitch I pack a steel (Skrrt)
No legs, we gon pop at his top bitch I shoot for real
You aint gang I aint jacking you, we pack em up in a second
Have you rethinking your moves
Im always O.P. so you know I aint bluffing
I'll really give a nigga the blues
Call up Kj and i bet you get boomed click clack nigga clear out the room
I show love cause im all for the peace but do me wrong, you get put in a tomb
Like watch out, I call up cuz and that nigga crazy
He gon, back out (Ha)
I got the treesha she in the trap she gon, tap out (Treesha)
I got the sauce these niggas envy
Keep that semi tucked
Reload (Fafafa)
Bitch you better duck
Movements, crazy
Treesha, baby
Movie, viral, they gon have to replay it
And she say she tryna get nasty, you gon have to prove it to me
Wanna know why they call me Don the demon
Watch what that liquor doing to me
And nowadays they killing for clout, make me wanna keep the 38
World keep turning, this shit never stops so i can not hesitate
And I aint no running rick but i got to paper chase
And we turn him running rick, if that boy ever watching face
(Boop boop boop boop boop)
Call cuz he gon clear out the room
I aint woo but i f*ck with the woos
Stacking chips bitch i feel like a jew
Thirty thousand what i payed for the shoes
Red bottoms sauce em (Sauce)
Body em coffin
Too tired i feel exhausted
Had your chance lil bitch you lost it
Me and gang rich
We gon make a fortune
Shoutout my movers
Kirk sides where its cracking
I call up the woos
And its lights camera action
These niggas want ksubis
Can't even pronounce em
Rocking never fold
Im fluent with the fashion
Dreads in my face so
You know how im moving
Im E.B.K bitch so you
Cant catch me snoozing
Smoking dope to the face
Whatever the weather
I really do it, the rest are pretenders
(Boom, boom, boom, boom)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


English

(Gang)
(No way, no way, no way)
(Gang)
(Wooo, yea, yea yea)
(Gang)
(Gang, holon, gang, holon)
Its a opp in the spot he get picked off thirty on me and im rollin too deep
Pussy boy shooting his kicks off
(Kicks off)
Hop out the V shooters elite
F*ck you think I got a grip for
(Boom)
Slide in traffic, we gon clap em
Bitch I pack a steel (Skrrt)
No legs, we gon pop at his top bitch I shoot for real
You aint gang I aint jacking you, we pack em up in a second
Have you rethinking your moves
Im always O.P. so you know I aint bluffing
I'll really give a nigga the blues
Call up Kj and i bet you get boomed click clack nigga clear out the room
I show love cause im all for the peace but do me wrong, you get put in a tomb
Like watch out, I call up cuz and that nigga crazy
He gon, back out (Ha)
I got the treesha she in the trap she gon, tap out (Treesha)
I got the sauce these niggas envy
Keep that semi tucked
Reload (Fafafa)
Bitch you better duck
Movements, crazy
Treesha, baby
Movie, viral, they gon have to replay it
And she say she tryna get nasty, you gon have to prove it to me
Wanna know why they call me Don the demon
Watch what that liquor doing to me
And nowadays they killing for clout, make me wanna keep the 38
World keep turning, this shit never stops so i can not hesitate
And I aint no running rick but i got to paper chase
And we turn him running rick, if that boy ever watching face
(Boop boop boop boop boop)
Call cuz he gon clear out the room
I aint woo but i f*ck with the woos
Stacking chips bitch i feel like a jew
Thirty thousand what i payed for the shoes
Red bottoms sauce em (Sauce)
Body em coffin
Too tired i feel exhausted
Had your chance lil bitch you lost it
Me and gang rich
We gon make a fortune
Shoutout my movers
Kirk sides where its cracking
I call up the woos
And its lights camera action
These niggas want ksubis
Can't even pronounce em
Rocking never fold
Im fluent with the fashion
Dreads in my face so
You know how im moving
Im E.B.K bitch so you
Cant catch me snoozing
Smoking dope to the face
Whatever the weather
I really do it, the rest are pretenders
(Boom, boom, boom, boom)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Elijah Berry
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Don Flare

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