| They got to show me pictures of my opps like, who is that man?
|
| The same nigga we hopped out on, all black like Batman
|
| For all that dissin',
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| Leave that bitch smellin' just like the trash can
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| Bitch, ain’t no smilin', I be wylin', they made me a madman (Ha)
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| Want pressure? |
| Yeah, my nigga down to clear the business
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| I finger fuck the glizzy plus the stick came wit' some titties
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| The Glock came wit' a dick, who tryna fuck? |
| He in his feelings
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| Since he actin' like a pussy, I’m gon' make sure that he feel it
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| We done hit him sixty times, he got stood over for a minute
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| My nigga slangin' iron and they’ll die behind the pain
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| Bitch, I’m throwin' gang signs
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| I’m out my mind, yeah, I’m a menace
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| And I’ma bang behind mine, no back and forth, ain’t playin' tennis
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| And I say how to spin the block and he gon' do it like a frisbee
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| And I’m like, damn, bro
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| How the fuck you do that shit without gettin' dizzy?
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| He want beef? |
| We took his pussy ass like we had a job at Wendy’s
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| The stick gon' tuck, they know it’s up, I’m like, who tryna get it?
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| She wanna fuck, I’m like, what’s up? |
| Your back, you gotta bend it
|
| But that’s enough about a slut, let me get back to business
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| Bitch, you bust him up and hit his skull so it’s a fact, he finished
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| And that’s a murder, bitch, we do some shit they never heard of
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| Bitch, we like to swerve on shit, my 23's they down to murk a bitch
|
| I got this dirty stick, fuck Instaa gram, on some in person shit
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| They shoot, he holdin' steel
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| Ain’t on no nervous shit, that murder shit
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| My niggas like to go and take it, they don’t work for shit
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| Like a big booty bitch when she naked, bitch, we twerkin' bricks
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| I get the bag, I like to get it fast, like on some urgent shit
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| Cross over, take a shot and drop his ass, some carry urban shit
|
| I’m sweatin' hard and I’m scratchin' 'cause I’m on the perky’s bitch
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| You all stop all the lyin', bitch, you ain’t searchin', bitch
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| You niggas dyin', when we catch you, we been on some lurkin' shit
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| Forget some nasty bitch wit' your lil' dirty stick
|
| Bitch, we be posted by the stop sign, tell these niggas, stop hidin'
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| I hope you clutchin' on your Glock now, 'cause bitch, I got mine
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| Tell these pussy niggas, stop tryin', they playin' shots fired
|
| The Draco shot it in the bitch like you are in stock at
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| I be flexin' out in Texas, bitch, I got the mob ties
|
| Fuck that textin', we addressin', we already outside
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| We gon' bless him, wipe his nose and make sure all the snot dry
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| And since that bitch maybe they can see me we shoot out the outside
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| We leave his face up on the TV, tell your mama, bye bye
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| And when it’s done and they achieve it, give my guys a high-five
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| We got a drive 'cause bitches greasy, they ain’t come from Popeyes
|
| They’re all frowling trigger squeezin' there to make the cops hide
|
| They got to show me pictures of my opps like, who is that man?
|
| The same nigga we hopped out on, all black like Batman
|
| For all that dissin'
|
| Leave that bitch smellin' just like the trash can
|
| Bitch, ain’t no smilin', I be wylin', they made me a madman (Ha)
|
| Want pressure? |
| Yeah, my nigga down to clear the business
|
| I finger fuck the glizzy plus the stick came wit' some titties
|
| The Glock came wit' a dick, who tryna fuck? |
| He in his feelings
|
| Since he actin' like a pussy, I’m gon' make sure that he feel it
|
| Make sure that he feel it, yeah (Hmm)
|
| Make sure that he feel it, yeah (Hmm)
|
| Make sure that he feel it, yeah (Hmm)
|
| Make sure that he feel it, yeah (Hmm) |