| As a matter fact, pulled up with extra ammo
|
| (Samy made this shit)
|
| Stopped by the store, me and my Loc, like get a pack of Camels
|
| (Damn, Jam, this shit a vibe)
|
| Every day we head hunting, redrum-ing
|
| I-I-I-I-I-I can’t keep it out my fucking mind
|
| We wait 'til night time then we ride
|
| Bro certified behind the wheel, them bullets flying
|
| Ayy, I know I say this every time
|
| We really live the life of crime
|
| Load it up, dust, ashes to ashes
|
| No choice but duck, we’ll shake them, blast it
|
| My VVs blinding like some headlights
|
| Roll that dope up, ha, dead guy
|
| Stick came with a red eye
|
| He shouldn’t have never had his head high
|
| They ran him down, he had a head price
|
| How the cops gon' catch me? |
| This a red eye (Oh, yeah)
|
| Choppers out when I jump out the car, fresh like a dead body
|
| I be in the trenches with them youngins, waiting on they stimmy
|
| Glock 4−0 extension, another homi', it’s just me and Timmy
|
| Four more of them bitches speaking on me, aim it at their fitteds
|
| Fuck the opps, they broke, ain’t got no money, plus we fucked their bitches
|
| Spin with your rod, now let that fire hit
|
| Lil' youngin really 'bout it, put that smoke out like a fireman
|
| We be fighting dogs inside the yard, I feel like Michael Vick
|
| Hell nah, that ain’t no righteous shit
|
| I be on something locced out, Richie rolling on some rider shit
|
| Beefing with the whole town, slit his throat, some Michael Myers shit
|
| Could have signed to Motown, but it’s fuck 'em, Never Broke Again
|
| Says he in love with that bitch, make sure he don’t see that ho again
|
| Shake 'til the scope off of the stick just to put it on this pole again
|
| I bet that chopper make 'em get back, ain’t no Get Back, nigga, fuck King Von
|
| Ski gon' be sleeping with a stick out by the door, it ain’t no running up
|
| Late night, we creepin' on they bitch-ass, get down low, Drac' got a hundred up
|
| Bitch, plus my pockets got a hundred in 'em
|
| I bet that rod take out a hundred men, a hundred men
|
| I can’t keep it out my fucking mind
|
| We wait 'til night time then we ride
|
| Bro certified behind the wheel, them bullets flying
|
| Ayy, I know I say this every time
|
| We really live the life of crime
|
| Load it up, dust, ashes to ashes
|
| No choice but duck, we’ll shake them, blast it
|
| My VVs blinding like some headlights
|
| Roll that dope up, ha, dead guy
|
| Stick came with a red eye
|
| He shouldn’t have never had his head high
|
| They ran him down, he had a head price
|
| How the cops gon' catch me? |
| This a red eye (Oh, yeah)
|
| Choppers out when I jump out the car, fresh like a dead body
|
| 3−0 in my 4−0, fuck 5−0 'cause, bitch, I’m 6−0
|
| Hit from the back, bitch, let my dick go
|
| Like fuck that, watch the pistol pick-roll
|
| We popped the car then let that stick blow
|
| To get with us, you need 'bout 6−0
|
| Jump out all-black, I’m with a rich ho
|
| They jump out, black gon' pull a kickdoor
|
| For fifteen hundred, youngin knocked 'em off
|
| We gon' kill 'em all by one-by-one, I want the top dog
|
| Really fucked up in the head, might let a junkie eat my dick and balls
|
| They got my thug inside the feds, when he touch down, he get the biggest Glock
|
| Two double cups, I’m sipping red to bring the X down, plus this Adderall
|
| Supressor on the Glock with thirty shots inside the chain claw
|
| They quick to link up with the opps, that’s every time they know the pressure on
|
| Same day that Timmy get out, he’ll go back, in love with busting domes
|
| Lil' brother bust that nigga head 'cause he got caught without that pole
|
| Come here, where you going?
|
| Pull off, pull off, skrrt
|
| Hello? |
| Ayy, turn on the news real quick
|
| It is getting outrageous, seventeen murders
|
| Every day we head hunting, redrum-ing, redrum-ing, redrum-ing, yeah
|
| I can’t keep it out my fucking mind
|
| We wait 'til night time then we ride
|
| Bro certified behind the wheel, them bullets flying
|
| Ayy, I know I say this every time
|
| We really live the life of crime
|
| Load it up, dust, ashes to ashes
|
| No choice but duck, we’ll shake them, blast it
|
| My VVs blinding like some headlights
|
| Roll that dope up, ha, dead guy
|
| Stick came with a red eye
|
| He shouldn’t have never had his head high
|
| They ran him down, he had a head price
|
| How the cops gon' catch me? |
| This a red eye (Oh, yeah)
|
| Choppers out when I jump out the car, fresh like a dead body |