| I’m a lunatic, I got 5 on it once the doobie lit
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| We was lockin' my room door stuffin the Boosie clips
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| Runnin' with hooligans I put in my work
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| Wipe the slugs and guns off, with the tip of my shirt
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| Two .23's, when we ride on our enemies
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| And hit em up if they don’t hit me up first
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| And my army fatigued, it’s still gunpowder on the sleeve
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| Niggas get shot every day B pull down ya skirt
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| Before I lift it up, show the whole world ya pussy
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| And how you niggas been some bitches since birth
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| Cause we them Sig Sauer boys hittin' em where it hurts
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| Twistin nigga’s cap back and pop a nigga
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| With a squig and a squirt
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| He dug his own grave, I’m just revealin' the dirt
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| Got some bullets to chase a nigga, to the end of the earth
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| Until we meet again, I think with death ima flirt
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| Give her that old evil grin and my devilish smirk
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| Fuck y’all niggas what y’all wanna do
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| Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew
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| Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool
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| Let me know if it’s a problem cause the solving we could do
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| Dead bullies and Red Bull is all in his stomach
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| With a couple bitches with whom relations ended abruptly
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| Grab the mickey and the coaster and sit it
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| Now I been sober a minute, ho tell your soldiers forget it
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| Spit it as cold as the frigid, dare me to host it and shit
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| Just carry the flow to the clinic, carry the coast on my shoulders
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| Various hoes in the whip and they blowin' smoke at the chauffeur
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| Carry the dope in they britches, bury a foe in the ocean
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| I can’t help it it’s Tan Cressida, gram sellers
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| Pantera records and bodies stuffed in the damp cellar
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| Far from the fronting, my niggas was in the back
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| Yelling cause we came from nothing like everything that you can’t tell us
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| Speak soft, sock a fan, shut the camera off
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| Ramp camp Camelot, canon cocked, lick a shot
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| Bop, bop liquor slosh bottom of the belly
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| Bars lock hard hitting like they squabbing with the celly
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| Fuck y’all niggas what y’all wanna do
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| Bumpin' my new shit mobbin' with the crew
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| Stuck to the blueprint and ride with the tool
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| Let me know if it’s a problem cause the solving we could do
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| Smokin' all the green, exhalin' dragon breath up out my nasal
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| Order steak, rosemary with the basil
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| It’s too rare, get it off my table, way I pimp
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| Should of stuck with the shrimp, dick stuck to her lips
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| The money stuck to my thumbs, I’m spittin' rounds like a drum
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| Bitch said her man was a bum and he think he got that bag
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| Get her high and dog her ass, she tellin' me 'bout homie stash
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| I listen up and roll my grass, before the blunt was even ashed
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| I hit my homie on the jack like
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| Just got the word on what the lick read
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| Essex county, and he sitting on 'bout six Ps
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| Is you 'bout it? |
| he say «for sure» we rushed to move
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| Riding with my top gun like Tom fucking Cruise
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| No license behind the wheel, blowing red signs
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| I push that red line before fed time
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| Get the flip and write a verse or two
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| Nah, us niggas never heard of you
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| Denzel in training day, motherfucker I’m getting surgical |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Reform School , by - BOLDY JAMES. Song from the album My 1st Chemistry Set, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп