TPL BM ft Mini (OTP) – LV Set

The talented Musician and Song writer, TPL BM ft Mini (OTP) , announced the release of his song titled LV Set which , Coolmusic.com.ng made it available for free Mp3 Download .Are you a music lover?  is a song to download and add to your playlist.

Always Download your songs from Coolmusic.com and you won’t regret doing that. DOWNLOAD TPL BM ft Mini (OTP) – LV Set Mp3, Mp4 & Lyrics.

DOWNLOAD NOW

TPL BM ft Mini (OTP) – LV Set LYRICS

TPL (OTP) – Plugged In Freestyle lyrics
[BM]
DT5 on the beat
Senseii
Shout out Fumez on this one, you get me?
Plugged In
[BM]
In Zone 8 tryna cause some hell
Made Philly dance, cut shapes as well
They can’t hack beef so they sing like Adele
War is war and time will tell
Glock 32, no .32 bells
Get well soon if you hold these shells
Youngers to olders scream like girls
Rise this well, that’s a dig-up a cell
In Zone 8 tryna cause some hell
Made Philly dance, cut shapes as well
They can’t hack beef so they sing like Adele
War is war and time will tell
Glock 32, no .32 bells
Get well soon if you hold these shells
Youngers to olders scream like girls
Rise this well, that’s a dig-up a cell
[Mini]
If I crash this car on a glide
Don’t worry ’bout your car getting dented
If I jump out, swing my shank
Pierce man’s lungs, and I fu*king meant it
Stack my bread then I got it invested
Waps on deck, in the Nizz I test it
TP gang from the deepest trenches
Get back where? Get back in them benches
Hold up, wait, I ain’t finished this sentence
Four waps up, this Smoke Squad settings
Jump out gang, put the opps on pendants
Fifteen inch but the Glock’s my preference
Five man deep, that’s perfect attendance
Why the opps keep hurdling fences?
Don’t ask me personal questions
Ching man down, I’m jerking him endless
[Sava]
Blacked out GLA or Mokka
Me and S in a bruck-down Honda
Spin that whip if I see me an opper
Call backup, chinged him proper
Samurai sword cuts like a chopper
Roll with the Glock, fill it with copper
Got live corn for an opper
They don’t wanna see what I got in my locker
Them man there just talk on the Gram
I get ’round there in a ding-dong van
Looking for him or a so-called fan
Slide that door, young g go ham
Pray that the .44 ting don’t jam
Rate that aim 99, no Sam
I’m on the opp block tryna rise and tan
I’m on the opp block tryna rise and tan
[BM]
I got bare gyal ’round, jiggy-jiggy on deck
In Broadwater Farm got the jiggy on deck
In Tangmere estate got the blikky and kwef
O way or no way, he still get cheffed

Don’t move right, you will get left
Shots get beat from the 9 and TEC
Baddie, baddie give drops in West
Flick it, flick, it that’s blades in necks
Who’s that? My man throwing up Os
You can get left like the Christmas ghost
Drugs, money, it come from the coast
White like Tommy and brown like Saint Patrick
ni*as get lit like I’m lighting my matches Shots get sent, we don’t wait for no catches Fresh out the box and it’s automatic Tell the driver, “stop here, let me slap it” [Mini] I’m on the backroad, I’m on my Jack Jones But still we crash corn at them I beg you don’t leave your friend Six feet deep where the opps get sent sht gets peak and I know they’re stressed
‘Cah the OTP’s got loaded skengs
Spin that whip, try catch me an M
Tell my young Gs don’t lack like Dezz
[Sava]
Two-litre ride, let’s go on a glide
sht get’s peak when us man ride In my mother’s hood where my opps get fried Known to the pigs as a violent guy You best not lack, got my zombie knife Got no waps, so the rap is a lie Invest in shanks, still don’t ride Kidnap squad, don’t rap no lies [BM] Who’s that? What’s that? Jump out, get him In the Nizz with a rusty weapon Two AKs, put the 4 in the 7 Have you ever seen a golden berettan? Slap that corn at his melon Slide tru’ with the Wesson Question, question Why the fuk are you leaving your bredrin?
[BM]
In Zone 8 tryna cause some hell
Made Philly dance, cut shapes as well
They can’t hack beef so they sing like Adele
War is war and time will tell
Glock 32, no .32 bells
Get well soon if you hold these shells
Youngers to olders scream like girls
Rise this well, that’s a dig-up a cell
In Zone 8 tryna cause some hell
Made Philly dance, cut shapes as well
They can’t hack beef so they sing like Adele
War is war and time will tell
Glock 32, no .32 bells
Get well soon if you hold these shells
Youngers to olders scream like girls
Rise this well, that’s a dig-up a cell
Fumez the Engineer

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*