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Everybody Dead Video (MV)






Giggs - Everybody Dead Lyrics
Official




Gunshots man punches and fly kicks
Big boss get murdered with side kicks
These riders ride against cyclists
This spicey food with the spices

F*ck dem gayl and we ah fly shit
This da link and in di neck we shoot ice pick
Not informa boy we nah have ties with
None of dem bwoy dem nah wanna smoke like ah a light spliff

Bagga high
Had to bus his head like a grab a pie
Everbody ate, mad appetites
Everybodies fed man strap or die
Smash buck up um him head, man buckle fly
Everybody dead but backa bye
Yeah, everybody bled when coppa fly
And anybody test mans stopping bye

Jealous yutes, pricks mad jealousy
Chicks like Hollowman, big bad remedy
Chicken and chips and wings like Tennesse
Bitches just tryna get looks like lemme see
January, March chicks sticks like February
Niggas love bitches and this that chemistry
If a man flip up man lifts that cemetery
Hollow might run up and kick that penalty

Sabotage, yeah everybody fled, camouflaged
Yeah, anybody, bad man at large
Maggie pon him 'ead with the kamikaze

I bring dem mandem from London, we dim your light
Wid the rifle dem we acquire from dem Israelite
Kno yuhself before mi mek yuh mudda miss ya life
Nah ramp wid Giggs pussy diss ah nah gigabytes
Put yuh pon der fridge of ice
Canon tek yuh picture right
We nah tie fi dem play wid fi son ah Fisher Price
When dem fi say they life sacred dem get da bitter vibes
Yeah mi see it mi state it then mek da trigger rise
Mi gun dem mek ah bigger noise
Suh wey sound bwoy ah bitch of lies
Gwarn get mi wid dem existence
Nigga pick or die
Watch dem ah run pussy scatter wen di clip ah strike
24K around mi neck or yea mi dripalize
Splash like ah flipper dive

Yuh nah see dem ah waste and sprung
Mi nah wan fi waste no shot
So mi ah fling ah knife
Informa tell the pol-lice mi nah gon be polite
Dem say der married to the gun mi nah gon sing no rights
Yo Giggs, yeah, circle where dem pussy dem live
Daggy tug hurt dem when we go to dem crib
Dem ah baby dem ah search but dem guh run fi dem bib
Dem amount ah f*cking grave ah man dig
Yea when we da shot and dem miss ah splendid
Mi hav mi strap upon mi block
Nigga we well defended
Dem ah baby tell em search ah round guh luk fi dem bib
Come mek me tell dem yo
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Gunshots man punches and fly kicks
Big boss get murdered with side kicks
These riders ride against cyclists
This spicey food with the spices

F*ck dem gayl and we ah fly shit
This da link and in di neck we shoot ice pick
Not informa boy we nah have ties with
None of dem bwoy dem nah wanna smoke like ah a light spliff

Bagga high
Had to bus his head like a grab a pie
Everbody ate, mad appetites
Everybodies fed man strap or die
Smash buck up um him head, man buckle fly
Everybody dead but backa bye
Yeah, everybody bled when coppa fly
And anybody test mans stopping bye

Jealous yutes, pricks mad jealousy
Chicks like Hollowman, big bad remedy
Chicken and chips and wings like Tennesse
Bitches just tryna get looks like lemme see
January, March chicks sticks like February
Niggas love bitches and this that chemistry
If a man flip up man lifts that cemetery
Hollow might run up and kick that penalty

Sabotage, yeah everybody fled, camouflaged
Yeah, anybody, bad man at large
Maggie pon him 'ead with the kamikaze

I bring dem mandem from London, we dim your light
Wid the rifle dem we acquire from dem Israelite
Kno yuhself before mi mek yuh mudda miss ya life
Nah ramp wid Giggs pussy diss ah nah gigabytes
Put yuh pon der fridge of ice
Canon tek yuh picture right
We nah tie fi dem play wid fi son ah Fisher Price
When dem fi say they life sacred dem get da bitter vibes
Yeah mi see it mi state it then mek da trigger rise
Mi gun dem mek ah bigger noise
Suh wey sound bwoy ah bitch of lies
Gwarn get mi wid dem existence
Nigga pick or die
Watch dem ah run pussy scatter wen di clip ah strike
24K around mi neck or yea mi dripalize
Splash like ah flipper dive

Yuh nah see dem ah waste and sprung
Mi nah wan fi waste no shot
So mi ah fling ah knife
Informa tell the pol-lice mi nah gon be polite
Dem say der married to the gun mi nah gon sing no rights
Yo Giggs, yeah, circle where dem pussy dem live
Daggy tug hurt dem when we go to dem crib
Dem ah baby dem ah search but dem guh run fi dem bib
Dem amount ah f*cking grave ah man dig
Yea when we da shot and dem miss ah splendid
Mi hav mi strap upon mi block
Nigga we well defended
Dem ah baby tell em search ah round guh luk fi dem bib
Come mek me tell dem yo
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jason Neville Thompson, Collin Demar Edwards, Jamar Roberts, Tarik Thompson, T'Jean Bennett
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Downtown Music Publishing

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