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Murda (Feat. Pusha T)

Kid Ink

My Own Lane


[Verse 1: Kid Ink]
I got a piece, for all the drama
Walking around like I'm president Obama
Yeah you see me with the team, deeper than the secret service
Drop-drop-drop it down baby girl, you know it's worth it
Heard you looking for the shit, go get some tissue
Let's pay some bills, pockets fatter than a Swisha
It's Rocketshipshawty bout to drop another missile
Put this bottle to your lips baby girl and french kiss it
You ain't innocent at all, it's fucking murder
Pull up, more shots in the burner, nah
All I see is ass, prolly looking so perverted
Getting money is the crime, baby guilty is the verdict
(We up)

[Pre hook: Kid Ink]
Get higher (Get high)
Get higher (Get high)
Get higher (Get high)
Get higher (Get high)

[Hook: Kid Ink]
You ain't innocent at all
It's, it's fucking murder
Shots in the burner
More shots in the burner

[Verse 2: Kid Ink]
The king had a dream, I think im living
They say they're sour cause they're riding in the limit
Heads to the sky, it ain't a limit
But you gotta about a minute girl, to make up a decision
Is you rocking with the team, or the opposition?
Put you in the game, just gotta play your position
See you the baddest here, ain't gotta hold a petition
Playing with your straw, I've been staring at you sipping
You ain't innocent at all, it's fucking murder
Turn up, more shots in the burner
Saying that you're straight as an arrow, I can turn you
Baby ain't nobody flyer, I know you can feel the turbulence
(We up)

[Pre hook: Kid Ink]
Get higher (Get high)
Get higher (Get high)
Get higher (Get high)
Get higher (Get high)

[Hook: Kid Ink]
You ain't innocent at all
It's, it's fucking murder
Shots in the burner
More shots in the burner

[Verse 3: Pusha T]
No angels allowed
Baby you ain't innocent, caught up in that whirlwind
Molly in the evening, girls kissing girls, and
I ain't here to judge at all, tryna get my twirl in
Benefits of fucking with 'em, shitting on your girlfriends
Woo! The party girls run the night, baby
Hah, cause boring bitches ain't my type, ladies
Mix it up, I'm in the French vanilla white lady
And got rich selling all this ice ice baby
Murda, murda, shots coming from everywhere
Glow in the dark, Don P's flowing heavy here (YUGH!)
Another movie in the making
Starring all these bitches, on these couches half naked
(Push)

(Let em hate

Compositores: Terrence Le Varr Thornton, Shama Edwin Joseph, Lasanna Harris, Brian Collins Jr
ECAD: Obra #11132908

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