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Wrong One - Grafh (Ft. Royce Da 5'9")
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Wrong One - Grafh (Ft. Royce Da 5'9")
[Sample]
“And he smiles”

[Intro: Grafh]
[?]
You know bad man don’t play around
This in a bloodclot playground
See
Aye

[Chorus: Grafh]
Ooh, I’m the wrong one to play with
I’m the wrong one to play with, ooh
I’m the wrong one to play with
I came to outwork you
Your work ethic is too basic
You know bad man no player
Me, I’m the wrong one to play with
I’m the wrong one to play with, ooh

[Verse 1: Grafh]
Young king nigga crowned pharaoh
For him legs spread faster than sound travel
Look under my nails and they found gravel
They say where no man’s gone, I found shadows
Ten toes down, my nigga
Boot heel to the ground, my nigga
I’m Mayweather, but I’m way better
I size you up, then choke you with the tape measure
My hands full of germs from applying straight pressure
You got a rash on a fake leather, I’m strapped and I spray pepper
The barrel goes ‘round and ‘round like a chain letter
My powder can change weather, that’s snow
I rep my city a lot, I light my blunt with the torch that the Statue of Liberty got
My nigga, we bump Biggie and LOX
Diddy with the diddy-bop
My dope’s the color of my Henny shot, let the semi pop
How you tryna block bullets
Looking like you’re tryna do the Milly Rock?
Can I get the same bread Diddy got
Without getting the death threats that got Biggie shot? Look
Word to my nigga Chinx Drugz
This the game of thrones and it’s power in king’s blood, there’s cowards who drink blood
On the hour to think love, we just think slugs
Think ski masks and think gloves, we [?]
We think Crips, we think Bloods
We don’t think love, we think shit, we think mud off the rip
I swing uwops, they gave flu shots
Bang a few and knock your brain to your tube socks
‘Cause the lames make the game too pop
Call Marty McFly from Back of the Future to save 2Pac
Who saving the game, who not?
Who want to tangle, my heart is the jangle
Your heart is made of chardonnay, one small parfait, and a large mango
A walking tornado, I’m armed with a volcano, my vomit is all drano
But you’re listening wrong, I’ve been spitting the bomb
But you was busy hitting the Quan, I’m busy whipping with the wand
Let the [?] rock spread
You sold your soul and already got bread
These industry niggas think I already dropped dead
And I appeared out of nowhere like Fetty Wap’s dreads
But I’m like
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