| I ain’t a killer, but don’t push me
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| Girl, you ain’t fuckin' with no rookie
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| I’ma get this bag, fuck who said I couldn’t
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| It ain’t even hard to find me if you lookin'
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| So don’t be actin' like you is who you ain’t
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| 'Cause I prefer real over fake
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| Gotta keep this strap on my waist
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| Gotta watch for these cops and these snakes
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| Hard body shit, you ain’t ready for this life, nigga
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| Thick bad bitch, come and ride me like a bike
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| Glock all black but the whip all white
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| Might catch frostbite on all this muhfuckin' ice
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| Fuck my opps, judge glorify vote too
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| And every time they pull me over I’m like «don't shoot»
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| And I never get caught slippin', bitch I’m so smooth
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| And I know life a gamble, but I don’t lose
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| I ain’t no bitch, broke nigga don’t tip me
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| Two niggas plotting on me, that’s two dummies, Ren & Renny
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| First nigga shootin', I’mma shoot till that bitch empty
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| I ain’t a killer, but don’t push me
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| Girl, you ain’t fuckin' with no rookie
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| I’ma get this bag, fuck who said I couldn’t
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| It ain’t even hard to find me if you lookin'
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| So don’t be actin' like you is who you ain’t
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| 'Cause I prefer real over fake
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| Gotta keep this strap on my waist
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| Gotta watch for these cops and these snakes
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| I ain’t a killer, but fuck it, pop, pop, pop, pop
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| Had enough of all this talking, bust shots now (shots now)
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| I’m hiding out (hidin' out), my chops sound nice
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| Check one, check two, third time, drop down (drop down)
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| Sorry, was that too angry-black?
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| These days a nigga can’t be crazy and still make a stack
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| But if your whole life was a catch-22
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| I wonder ain’t it really crazy if you ain’t crazy too?
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| Semantics with a shooter always loses when the clips go
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| Crazy with the Ruger, make 'em Panic! |
| At The Disco
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| I bust a rhyme regularly, I ain’t talkin' Flipmode
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| Flip your whole life like it’s sittin' in some Crisco
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| When it’s hot, it’s finna pop off (pop off)
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| Thotty riding shawty with the top off (top off)
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| Distract you long enough to miss the sawed-off
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| She the real killer and you never got a shot off
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| I ain’t a killer, but don’t push me
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| There’s marijuana baked up in the cookies
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| I’m already freaking out, don’t make me turn into the monster
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| That you always dreamed about
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| So don’t be acting like you is who you ain’t
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| 'Cause I prefer real over fake
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| Gotta keep this strap on my waist
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| Gotta watch for these cops and these snakes
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| Yuh, I want todo, todo (todo, todo, todo)
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| Hop into position like a pogo (pogo)
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| Bro got this dog twisted, I ain’t Toto, wow
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| From the land where the youngsters be off that coco now
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| Whether you split the Swisher or sip the liquor (yuh)
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| Find your nights, but mind your vice and temper (yeah)
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| I told you twice (I told you twice)
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| Hoes gon' like what hoes gon' like (yuh)
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| I try to be minding my temper
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| But I’m under pressure that some of y’all never (never)
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| Never ever had to get checked on
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| Or had no more times that I done been flexed on
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| Chest feeling all Teflon, it’s turf talk with no press on
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| Got the sauce like I’m on Szechuan
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| On your noodle if you go Defcon
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| Hiroshima bomb!
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| Smoke cheeba in the theater with my Nia Long (my Nia Long)
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| Just me and my motherfuckin' kemosab' ('sab')
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| No ranger to this danger, then I hit the mob, yup!
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| I ain’t a killer, but don’t push me
|
| Girl, you ain’t fuckin' with no rookie
|
| I’ma get this bag, fuck who said I couldn’t
|
| It ain’t even hard to find me if you lookin'
|
| So don’t be actin' like you is who you ain’t
|
| 'Cause I prefer real over fake
|
| Gotta keep this strap on my waist
|
| Gotta watch for these cops and these snakes |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Drippin , by - Daveed Diggs. Song from the album Blindspotting: The Miles EP, in the genre Саундтреки