Lyrics O13 - 67, Do Road, LD

O13

Let me tell you about O13, that was rottys and macs and baggy jeans
Queff 'dat roddy at 'dem man, I just watch them crash and skeet
The amount of time we lurked 'round there and not seen not one of them neeks
(not one)
Them man so thirsty, I just ching mans face then skeet (ching, ching, ching)
One minute, his face was looking all fleek
Now it’s looking on leak
'Dem get got then talk on the net, 'dem man just post to police (snitch nigga)
I stay with machines and all of them grease that make them clean
Step 'round 'ere, leave everything red
Make the feds take that scene
Still, let’s lurk on 'dem man 'dere
Thought he’s rendt, then red tears
That one there got a clip on the side
But we rise that one, it’ll drop right there
Like- and- (ha)
When my guys mash that work
One hand on the wheel, one hand on the three two spin
L dip that first (I dip that)
'013 that was Max and, caught him a body (old school)
Trap got bad for the AM
Then hoops went and lost that roddy
674 won a golden boot
And we got that shit out now
Racks galore, shoot and score
Threee waps up;
man do it in style
Do up the hooptie, drive like NASCAR
Swear down that’s like eighty
On a mains with shells on deck, no pasta
My brodi’s straight from Ghana
But he tie up his dreads, no rasta
This shotgun kicks like Ken
The .40 spins on folks like Blanka (blow, blow, blow)
Know what it is if I step on the R’s
'013, .38 big bad shotty 'n' a mac in the back of the car
Set way mash, gonna dip man down 'till his backplate hurt man’s palm
Man know what it is
Man know what you’re on when you see a man jump out the car
Gang
Let me tell you about O13, that was rotty’s and mac’s and baggy jeans
Queff 'dat roddy at 'dem man, I just watch them crash and skeet
The amount of time we lurked 'round there and not seen not one of them neeks
(not one)
Them man so thirsty, I just ching mans face then skeet (ching, ching, ching)
One minute, his face was looking all fleek
Now it’s looking on leak
'Dem get got then talk on the net, 'dem man just post to police (snitch nigga)
I stay with machines and all of them grease that make them clean
Step 'round 'ere, leave everything red
Make the feds take that scene
Guns, money, drugs;
my block’s like The Wire
Go keep me a fry-up
Put the block’s through fire
Feds wanna grab that supplier
Big houses, ammo, wapps;
I desire
Big Mac and a rotty, that was out quaking
Stones rip through skin and flesh
These stones had bones, them breaking
I mean, broken
They run when jooks approaching
Angry when they get away
It get’s so 'ments when feds appraching
Come to a decision (what's the decision?)
Man’s Premier League, 'dem man in division
SAD on your block, man search and destroy on possession
Peng 'ting wanna flirt, I just want-
What’s the decision?
Wet up a man, should have saw his feet
Woulda thought he was Crippin'
I go the juice, but I ate the (yeah, yeah), yeah
Hot young boy, I might drive the in the
Manbag, big jackets, if you really want to see that thingy
Three drils, three days, real life
Hands down the gang-dem get drilly
Let me tell you about O13, that was rotty’s and mac’s and baggy jeans
Queff 'dat roddy at 'dem man, I just watch them crash and skeet
The amount of time we lurked 'round there and not seen not one of them neeks
(not one)
Them man so thirsty, I just ching mans face then skeet (ching, ching, ching)
One minute, his face was looking all fleek
Now it’s looking on leak
'Dem get got then talk on the net, 'dem man just post to police (snitch nigga)
I stay with machines and all of them grease that make them clean
Step 'round 'ere, leave everything red
Make the feds take that scene