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Westside Gunn - Pete VS Andre Lyrics



Westside Gunn - Pete VS Andre Lyrics
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Alright, how you doin' up there?
No preconceived ideas of what we're going to play
Either rhythmically, or melodically, or harmonically
We don't know what's going to emerge from moment to moment
There's no real leader, uh, of this kind of music
The focus shifts, sometimes the music is coming right from the center of the room, somehow-

Ayo, billionaires off the wrist
Big gates on the dish
AK's made his dreads lift (brrt)
Fire shooters using the sticks (cap)
Homie behind the G-wall for a few robberies (haan)
Plus he got caught with his blick, it had two bodies
Sold my soul for a thousand Maseratis
Bullets back and forth like it's air hockey (doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot)
Throw 'em off the roof, face first saké
He look like me but more stocky
I'm waitin' to let the .40 off
Caught a rapper in the club, broke his wrist snatchin' his Rollie off (ha)
Fluff a brick, that's what the soda for
That's the code of war, kill the general and watch the soldiers fall (woo)
Dropped the pack by the corner store
Cherry Bugatti four-door to fall on the floorboard
Been baggin' dope all night
My first gloves at the Albright
Imagine your favorite rapper but more nice
My bars like, gettin' stabbed at the same time with four knives
They gave Sly four lives (free the homie)
Three racks with my kicks I never wore twice
Whippin' raw, you can smell it in my Off-White (cap)
I can have niggas whack your mama for a small price
War time, I wore Patrick Moore
Jackin' off the gauge, blew off his face settin' off (boom)
I'm prayin' if I spray it, I'ma lay 'em all
Dope money stuffed in the jelly jar, canary on
The Maserati gods (skrrt)
I had the black and orange

Alright, how you doin' up there?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Alright, how you doin' up there?
No preconceived ideas of what we're going to play
Either rhythmically, or melodically, or harmonically
We don't know what's going to emerge from moment to moment
There's no real leader, uh, of this kind of music
The focus shifts, sometimes the music is coming right from the center of the room, somehow-

Ayo, billionaires off the wrist
Big gates on the dish
AK's made his dreads lift (brrt)
Fire shooters using the sticks (cap)
Homie behind the G-wall for a few robberies (haan)
Plus he got caught with his blick, it had two bodies
Sold my soul for a thousand Maseratis
Bullets back and forth like it's air hockey (doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-doot)
Throw 'em off the roof, face first saké
He look like me but more stocky
I'm waitin' to let the .40 off
Caught a rapper in the club, broke his wrist snatchin' his Rollie off (ha)
Fluff a brick, that's what the soda for
That's the code of war, kill the general and watch the soldiers fall (woo)
Dropped the pack by the corner store
Cherry Bugatti four-door to fall on the floorboard
Been baggin' dope all night
My first gloves at the Albright
Imagine your favorite rapper but more nice
My bars like, gettin' stabbed at the same time with four knives
They gave Sly four lives (free the homie)
Three racks with my kicks I never wore twice
Whippin' raw, you can smell it in my Off-White (cap)
I can have niggas whack your mama for a small price
War time, I wore Patrick Moore
Jackin' off the gauge, blew off his face settin' off (boom)
I'm prayin' if I spray it, I'ma lay 'em all
Dope money stuffed in the jelly jar, canary on
The Maserati gods (skrrt)
I had the black and orange

Alright, how you doin' up there?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Daniel Alan Maman, Demond Price, Alvin Lamar Worthy
Copyright: Lyrics © Royalty Network, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.




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