Video Berettas Ice On My Fist de Young Thug 2025 Cristiana Lyrics

Young Thug - Berettas Ice On My Fist Lyrics

[Chorus: Young Thug]
Aim at the tee, Donatello (Yeah)
This ice on my fist, ain't no metal (Yeah)
Coupe came equipped with Beretta’s (Yeah)
It's locked in and I'm a lock deader (Woah)
I keep a few sticks in the section
I got some bad hoes in my section
I'm too wavy got a selection
Big gun on me, ain't no suppression
I done made a better impression
I've been blowing gas, guess it's not electric
I done fucked up the charts, all the metrics
You done got you sum' rice, you ain't catch it
I market that Sp5der the best
That foreign bitch nut on my chest
The new hoes I'm drivin' have sex
I told 'em I been in distress

[Verse: Gunna]
The foreign came through you hear it's a motorsport
It must sucks I been getting paid child support
I just had my bitch going to see resort
In that Bentley, it don't got a key to start
YSL going up, we on top of charts
Only time I can sleep is when I pop a bar
My lil bitch she a freak, fuck inside the car
Tell her open her legs up, spread 'em, wide apart
I been fucking up the mainframe
Gettin' all you mad is just the main thing
Used to be so lame, now the big body hoggin' up both lanes
Used to be a no name, now shawty suck it till she got no brain
Used to have no game, now I go into the club make the pole rain
I put my dick in her lips, whatever I got on it's drip
I get her wet like a ship (Ship)
Run it up, thank God, gave me a gift (Run it up)
We in [?] eat & swim like a fish, we smell the lean whenever I piss
If she mine then she gon' get a gift
Yeah, we too wavy, these niggas ain't hip (Wavy)
[Chorus: Young Thug]
Aim at the tee, Donatello (Yeah)
This ice on my fist, ain't no metal (Yeah)
Coupe came equipped with Beretta’s (Yeah)
It's locked in and I'm a lock deader (Woah)
I keep a few sticks in the section
I got some bad hoes in my section
I'm too wavy got a selection
Big gun on me, ain't no suppression
I done made a better impression
I've been blowing gas, guess it's not electric
I done fucked up the charts, all the metrics
You done got you sum' rice, you ain't catch it
I market that Sp5der the best
That foreign bitch nut on my chest
The new hoes I'm drivin' have sex
I told 'em I been in distress