Lyrics Ransom Notes - BBG Baby Joe

Ransom Notes

Everybody load up, man, this a junkie runner
I gave that nigga five rocks, yeah, everybody enter
Pull up at the corner store, go get a thermal too
Gotta hide my tats, I bet nobody said we did it, dude
Fuck on his sister, laugh about it, she don’t even know
Smoke a joker, park the car right by the corner store
We full of sticks too, we loaded in this bitch
Back to the top, we in the Heights tryna blam a bitch
Pull up on him at the red light and lift his soul with this
I bet I be that demon child them dudes be talking 'bout and shit
Shells hopping out the bottom, note the crime scenes and shit
Bet I bat the fuck out a nigga just like I do a bitch
Go with your move and you’ll get famous, he know how it go
That badass signature, yeah that go baby blow
Bust his ass, go get that bag, since you already know
Go hit the show, we turnt up there like fuck a nigga, though
Turn this bitch into a purge, shit, what you mean by that?
Shit, my youngin got your children, you better hit me back
Shit, I want fifty flat, oh he ain’t having that?
(What?)
Ain’t goin' down, cut him open, we ain’t playing that
Grab the bitch when she leave work (Come here), like, «Where your man at?»
I heard your baby daddy had them bricks, shit, we ain’t playing that
Better hit him up, oh, he don’t talk?
Shit, we ain’t havin' that (For real?)
Cut her middle finger off, it’s fuck you, she ain’t comin' back
Ransom notes, don’t play 'bout that, man I need all that
The only thing I’m asking you is, «Tell me where your man at»
I heard he had them brick, that nigga, he the shit
Them instagram posts, he flexing bags, send me that shit
Or we gon' bust him up
Shoot your children, do you love 'em, bruh?
'Cause I need all my money and you steady playin', your time is up
Send pistols, don’t give a fuck, tell 12 I’ll zip 'em up
Man, he give me my money, have his peep, and we can get the fuck
I been the man, I handle business if M’s aren’t adding up
Like, «Bae, you got the money?»
«Daddy got it, please come save us»
But now he looking stupid, profit money, bag ain’t adding up
On the way to get it, jack the plug, but he ain’t giving up
So he bring his lil' stick and got a cutter, now he loadin' up
Meaning he gon' live or he gon' die just for his family trust
And he gon' go out with a bang but he know he don’t give a fuck
Now this a prime example how you make a purge stuck
Turn this bitch into a purge, shit, what you mean by that?
Shit, my youngin got your children, you better hit me back
Shit, I want fifty flat, oh he ain’t having that?
(What?)
Ain’t goin' down, cut him open, we ain’t playing that
Grab the bitch when she leave work (Come here), like, «Where your man at?»
I heard your baby daddy had them bricks, shit, we ain’t playing that
Better hit him up, oh, he don’t talk?
Shit, we ain’t havin' that (For real?)
Cut her middle finger off, it’s fuck you, she ain’t comin' back