Lyrics of 'Supernatural' by Trippie Redd
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Supernatural is a song by Trippie Redd whose lyrics have countless searches, so we decided it deserves its place on this website, along with many other song lyrics that internet users want to know.
Do you love the song Supernatural? Can't quite understand what it says? Need the lyrics of Supernatural by Trippie Redd? You are in the place that has the answers to your desires.
I'm shy, oh my God
Take a chill pill, take a chill pill
Take a chill pill, take a chill pill
Take a chill pill, take a chill pill
Take a chill pill, take a chill pill
Bitch, I'm from 800 where we kill-kill
Walk down, do a drill-drill, pop out like a pill-pill
Wake up in the morning, spark a blunt and crack a damn seal
We ballin', bitch, I break the backboard, shaquille o'neal (yeah, yeah)
Big choppa turn like timmy, we got dracos with titties
We got kids runnin' 'round with semis, that ain't love, that's envy
Big jurassic in your city, bimmers, Benz and bentleys
Rollin' 'round, g-wagon, lean go to my kidneys
Bitch, I'm a monster, bitch, I'm a goon
I cannot lose, bitch, I'm a winner
Diamonds, they dancin' on me like the wintеr
I got the shells, no master splintеr
I got them bales, with the flick of my heater
Got a cross on my nails, but I won't cross my niggas
Big 14, know what the fuck goin' on, gang
On my gang (woah)
On my gang (nigga)
On my gang (on my), gang
On my gang
On my gang (woah)
On my gang (yeah)
On my gang
With the gang, I'm a rebel (on my gang)
I made treaties with the devil
Home in space, don't need no shuttle (bah)
Don't be scared, don't need no trouble (haha)
I just down this hennessy, it got me seein' double (gang)
Countin' chips, don't let the cookie crumble
We— we keep blicks, got that bag, and now I'll never fumble
Trippie vers' the whole damn gang, it's like a royal rumble (bah)
Pussy boy got pushed out the whip, I watched 'em roll and tumble (bitch)
Your bitch kissin' on my dick, look like she blowin' bubbles (woah)
Yeah, you niggas autobots, I'm a damn gundam
Walk around this bitch like I'm their pops, now they mad I sonned 'em (woah)
Summin' up the paychecks, I'ma get this cash (cash)
Summon up that paycheck, I'ma get that bag (woo)
Private flights to Berlin, I got jet lag
Nigga tryna steal my shine and our jet-packs
And I'm only goin' up from here, like a jet-pack
And your homie, I rolled up in here
It's that good pack (it's that good shit)
Bitch, gang (woah)
Woah (on my gang)
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Otras canciones de Trippie Redd
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