[(Verse 1) Lé Momo]: Why the hate gotta be so low All these bitches still hating Momo Man I just don't give a fuck no more I'm just gon' carry on showing off All you haters are really so slow I've been working on my grind solo I've been working on my grind for long I'll lead the game y'all practice so long Don't make me mad coz I'll really just go off I'll pull out my stinger, sting you dead and runoff Haters stay mad coz I'm constantly one up They hate from the back while I'm leading by one up Fight with your fist don't be pulling no gun out They always a mess they my children my nana Clean up your act you're parading the gutter Locked up with facts, I got bars I can't run out I'm juicy I'm sex niggas cry for my nana Saying who next give them numbers like runners The hard ones, the bummers none of you can sum up Don't speak to me till I speak to you shut up Y'all niggas ain't shit compared to my stunner Y'all ain't got shit but small dicks and nada Can't live with the drama so head out in peace Niggas don't know when to leave! [(Chorus) AugustChild]: Niggas hatin' from the bleachers All that shit don't even reach us We be comin' through the speaker Body niggas like the reefer These niggas hatin' from the bleachers All that shit don't even reach us Piff be comin' through the speaker Smoke a nigga like some reefer... woah! [(Verse 2) Deë 2094]: These niggas hating from the bleachers But I be coming through the speakers I'm hypothermic with ice game The cold shoulder make 'em shiver Umuphapha lan' uthol' Impam' Umuphanda lan' uthol' isak' Zinja zam zihlale zigcwele istrad Kumabhilid' ase-Afrika Trust the shooter, finna grab the trigger Run up on a nigga, make him say what he said Maw'ngabuka, niggas rather beef up Than to meet up, speak up, niggas rather be dead So you and your niggas can fuck off Killing this shit and I runoff You and your niggas get cut off Fuck one of ya niggas, I kill all of em Coz the opposition and the competition Can get caught up, beaten by the pen I'm scriptin' Compositions make 'em reposition I'm proper spittin' and they out'ea bitchin' I come and kill em, get my recognition So I kill these niggas make an exhibition Call all your friends out to come and see me MalumeDee finna make a killing... [(Chorus) AugustChild]: Niggas hatin' from the bleachers All that shit don't even reach us We be comin' through the speakers Roll these niggas like the reefer Niggas hatin' from the bleachers All that shit don't even reach us Piff be comin' through the speakers Smoke a nigga like some reefer [(Outro) AugustChild]: I got Malume, Lé Momo and me We keep it litty, we outta your league I sip me some lean, I murder the beat This shit is so easy, I'm outta your league! You John Doe-ass-lookin'-motherfucker! Don't nobody like you! Yo momma don't even like you! You bum-ass, broke ass muhfucker! (Haaibo iphelile phel' ingoma) Skrrr!
Read the complete lyrics to "From The Bleachers" by Deë 2094 from the album "Kitchen Vibez (uMphako Edition)" in 2020. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rap.
"From The Bleachers" is performed by Deë 2094. from the album "Kitchen Vibez (uMphako Edition)" in 2020 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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"From The Bleachers" is credited to Deë 2094. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"From The Bleachers" appears on "Kitchen Vibez (uMphako Edition)" in 2020.
Visit the Deë 2094 artist page at /artist/dee-2094 for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.
