Listen to DRAGON $lAYER (feat. BP!) by Harp$

DRAGON $lAYER (feat. BP!)

Harp$

Hip-Hop/Rap

Music Video

Moira Smiley I Live in California
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Featured In

Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Harper Ensslin
Harper Ensslin
Songwriter

Lyrics

Shoutout Sabianz man This shit hard as a motherfucker My boy BP in the booth with me Bout to talk some real cash shit Pockets full of paper I been smoking on trees She don't go to church but I got her on her knees I don't go to church, palm angels on my tee Everybody equal, we all players on the team The whip like a sick dog it ain't got no roof Dolla Criss Angel make the pack go poof I'm a dragon slayer spitting fire in the booth I'm a dragon slayer spitting fire in the booth Waked in with the sauce like hello Harp Dolla one handsome fellow Bitch just make it shake like jello All this ice on me, you can't touch my chain Or I'm gone shoot like Carmelo Rah, rah, rah, rah, rata Hundred rounds coming out the choppa I just put it deep she need a doctor Fucked her in a rolls and made her sing call that phantom of the opera I got them racks out, who really want it with me I'm bout to spazz out, I talk my shit on this beat I'm bout to pass out, feel like I'm bout to OD I'm in my bag now, got double G on my feet Pockets full of paper I been smoking on trees She don't go to church but I got her on her knees I don't go to church, palm angels on my tee Everybody equal, we all players on the teaam The whip like a sick dog it ain't got no roof Dolla Criss Angel make the pack go poof I'm a dragon slayer spitting fire in the booth I'm a dragon slayer spitting fire in the booth Point blank period Pull up shoot a nigga point blank make a nigga catch his period Life a one way street nigga I been steering Your bitch staring at my pants checking on my clearance uh Put a hole in a nigga he looking like mesh Put some cheese on his head made him look like a pest Put your bitch on her knees made her look like a pet This Za got me fly not a S on my chest Drop the Glock in the dirt now it's dirty Can't talk to these lames they ain't worthy Her pussy so hot out the oven a turkey He talk to the cops that nigga a birdy Pressure they don't know what to do with it I'm fine don't want nothing to do with you Alpine pistols hitting like car speakers
Writer(s): Harper Ensslin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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