Off Beat Eli Fross
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Off Beat" by Eli Fross. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro]
Grrrt
Look
[Verse 1]
My niggas pull up on dummy shit
I be riding round with them killers (Grrah, grrah, grrah, grrah, grrah) that be shooting on some other shit
You know they feel my presence, nigga, when I pull up, good luck
Talk crazy, you'll get ya hood touched (Haha)
And I don't give a fuck about a nigga, I been getting bread
Until a nigga start talking crazy, put it on his head (Bah)
You little fuck nigga
Yeah, you better duck nigga (Baow, baow, baow, baow, baow) 'cause when I put them lions on ya ass, then it's lunch nigga
Lunch time, crunch time, yeah, you better run boy
I'll have them boys come run you down just for fun boy (Gang, gang)
Put that red beam on ya head, now you done, boy (Gang, gang)
That internet beef shit is wack, get ya gun, boy (Gang, gang, gang)
Bitch said she like my Cuban link (What?)
Told her, "Link up" and took her to Cuba to fuck her cheeks up (That's right)
Little mommy, shorty freaked up (What?)
We was fucking all night, top floor, maid had cleaned up (Ha)
But I regret I went to meet her (Huh?)
'Cause after swimming in that pussy, I really wanted to breed her (Huh)
Big Blood, pockets C'd up (What?)
With bloods with Crips, either way still gon' see Blood (Blatt)
Grrrt
Look
[Verse 1]
My niggas pull up on dummy shit
I be riding round with them killers (Grrah, grrah, grrah, grrah, grrah) that be shooting on some other shit
You know they feel my presence, nigga, when I pull up, good luck
Talk crazy, you'll get ya hood touched (Haha)
And I don't give a fuck about a nigga, I been getting bread
Until a nigga start talking crazy, put it on his head (Bah)
You little fuck nigga
Yeah, you better duck nigga (Baow, baow, baow, baow, baow) 'cause when I put them lions on ya ass, then it's lunch nigga
Lunch time, crunch time, yeah, you better run boy
I'll have them boys come run you down just for fun boy (Gang, gang)
Put that red beam on ya head, now you done, boy (Gang, gang)
That internet beef shit is wack, get ya gun, boy (Gang, gang, gang)
Bitch said she like my Cuban link (What?)
Told her, "Link up" and took her to Cuba to fuck her cheeks up (That's right)
Little mommy, shorty freaked up (What?)
We was fucking all night, top floor, maid had cleaned up (Ha)
But I regret I went to meet her (Huh?)
'Cause after swimming in that pussy, I really wanted to breed her (Huh)
Big Blood, pockets C'd up (What?)
With bloods with Crips, either way still gon' see Blood (Blatt)
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