Lyrics Don't Try To Tell Me - Magik Markers

Don't Try To Tell Me

Let a nigga try me, try me
I’ma get him gone like Illuminati
Cause we ain’t playing up in Chicago
30 make him yell like he a soprano
Let a nigga try me, try me
I’ma shoot his face like a picture ID
Let them know that we ain’t playing up in Chicago
Lay them boys down like a lot of dominoes
Pop a nigga frame like he was a garter
Run up in his crib like Mr. Rogers
Flip his ass quick put him in gymnastics
Bitch we go to war like we being drafted
Tell Lil Durk let’s have a party with my lil shawtys
We ain’t getting drunk, but they bringing 40s
I could murder with my fashion you niggas lacking
About to drop a body feel like I’m contracting
Better be rushing to the bank walking like a model
Your man give me neck till I feel his tonsils
My lil homie got the tech loaded for you bastards
Bet he touch a nigga like say a pastor
They say I be slaying on my Kim K, where my corset?
Youngest bitch fucking up these streets like my name was North West
My bitches don’t want to talk like a case of strep throat
We rather just get up on it, word to fucking Dej Loaf
Bullets clear you out your brain now you need a mentor
Blow a nigga down like he in a windstorm
All I do is say the word they be running over
Kill a nigga in a week call it that ebola
And Ohhh
Way to many niggas focused on
Where I be at
Who I be with
And what I do
Take your baby out like it was his born day
Leave a pussy wet like we having foreplay
I’m really having shit that’s why bitches mad though
Have you ever seen amounts longer than your zip code?
I ain’t never had a problem with spending Benjies
Lean upon myself, rest in peace to Pimp C
Got a pocket full of notes
Pay my shooter like D. Rose
I could blow a couple G’s
Racked up no double D’s
May give him a taste
Nigga like Muhammad, he say it’s the bomb
But I’m not Islamic
You know I’m from the Chi, where they bang corners
Heads upon the ground like we tossing quarters
Talking all the tough shit, that rough shit
You gone stumble up and get fucked with
Can’t roll with these weak hoes
These niggas sweeter than duck lips
Pulled up in that tinted truck
They gone smoke some like ganja
Doing all that dickriding, you still driving that Honda?
I’m offended, stop pretending
I don’t play about my blood like a diabetic
Fuck niggas, something I do not condone
Swear to God
The only thing I’m waiting on