Lyrics Fuck Nigga - Dolan Beats, Chief Keef

Fuck Nigga

Fuck Boy, bumbaclot boy
Say one thing then we gon' be on your block boy
Got a lot boy, thats' that Glock boy
Fuck boy, toting some Glock boy
I’m smoking strong ass pack and shit
My niggas come through wacking shit
Bad bitches rub my back and shit
Like the police, they always ask me shit
I be adding shit, subtracting shit
Lately, I been on some relaxing shit
I bet motherfuckers wanna know how big my mansion is
Let me tell a fuck nigga just glance at it
Fuck boy, bumbaclot boy
Say one thing we gon' be on your block boy
We them Glo Gang hotboys
Come through killin shit and they can’t stop us
So run your block up
I’m coming through with all nine, Glocks and choppers
And ain’t nobody getting locked up
We ain’t snitching and you niggas not us
Sending shit like mailmans
Ten niggas in one little caravan
A lot of tools and a couple of handy men
Come through bustin' at you, better duck when you hear the man
I’m glo’d up like a candle, man
And my chain carry no diamonds, that little man
And I bet your bitch a happy camper, man
She give brain like she got a happy temperament
To fuck boys I am Casper
They say what’s up and I look past 'em
I got a AK with a dagger
And I’ma shoot your ass up then I’ma stab you up
Almighty spectacular
In the stu late night, buying beats like I’m Dracula
Let a nigga act like he tryna fight me, then imma light him up
Remember when i used to ain’t have shit, now I got the finest stuff
I’m smoking strong ass pack and shit
My niggas come through wacking shit
Bad bitches rub my back and shit
Like the police, they always ask me shit
I be adding shit, subtracting shit
Lately, I been on some relaxing shit
I bet motherfuckers wanna know how big my mansion is
Let me tell a fuck nigga just glance at it
I’m winning, no pretending
Windows tinted, none of my cars rented
I could spend it, so I can spend it
Smoking Tooka when I’m reminiscing
Pull up on your block like skrr
Fuck niggas gon' freeze up like deer
I like lean, I don’t want no beer
I’m eighteem, I don’t want no beer
Six thots, wifey, and one me
Glock 18, ain’t need to be dumb with me
Try to come up in here, turn your ass to lunch beef
Lotta fire what you gonna see
I still like my bitch conceited
Still 300 O’Block 'til I’m bleeding
We still in the streets killing oppositions
I’m cooling in the stu, tryna make me a billion
Throw your set up, throw your gats up
Throw the wrong gat up then you get smacked up
Throw the wrong set up then you get stretched up
I got a small circle, I done lessed up
But I got shooters in Miami
Got shooters in Los Angeles
Got shooters in Alabama
Shoot your concert up and leave nothing but cameras
I’m smoking strong ass pack and shit
My niggas come through wacking shit
Bad bitches rub my back and shit
Like the police, they always ask me shit
I be adding shit, subtracting shit
Lately, I been on some relaxing shit
I bet motherfuckers wanna know how big my mansion is
Let me tell a fuck nigga just glance at it