| Ayy, ayy, woah
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| (Pooh, you a fool for this one)
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| With the Glock all in his pants
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| He gon' walk out with the Glock all in his pants
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| My shooter’s jumpin' out the gym with a Glock all in his pants
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| Only want two .38s, the place is payin' 30 bands
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| Them shooters move on my command, I got 'em sticked up in the van
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| Jump out gang, no we ain’t playin', face wrapped up, no Taliban
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| Kick in your door to get them bands, my G hopped out, them niggas ran
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| Spin on their block, let off some shots and let them boys know I ain’t playin'
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| You say it’s up, bitch, what you sayin?
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| Side of your house, that’s where we layin'
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| When you walk out, we get to sprayin'
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| Pussy bitch, no, I ain’t playin'
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| Spin on their block, let off some shots, if we don’t hit we spin again
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| The day I die, nobody cry, walk in the mall and spend a ten
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| One Glock 40, two FNs, one got your name, two for your friends
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| Young rich nigga in the Benz, Lord forgive me for my sins
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| You rollin' with me, that’s a fact, nigga
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| I catch you walkin' out of church on Sunday mornin'
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| Best believe you gettin' stretched, nigga
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| I’m in the streets, they’re on the internet
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| Send some shots, we gon' send 'em back
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| I’m startin' to think these niggas snitchin'
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| When we spin, they never spinnin' back
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| Everything that I rap, swear to God that I’m spittin' facts
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| Hittin' winters on the run, I’m grippin' on the MAC
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| My chain snatched, your brain snatched
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| Glock 40 bullets, your name attached
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| Face a nigga just for lookin' at
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| I’m way up, ain’t no lookin' back
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| Ol' pussy boy, who you lookin' at?
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| Dope in the kitchen, we cookin' that
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| My shooter’s jumpin' out the gym with a Glock all in his pants
|
| Only want two .38s, the place is payin' 30 bands
|
| Them shooters move on my command, I got 'em sticked up in the van
|
| Jump out gang, no we ain’t playin', face wrapped up, no Taliban
|
| Kick in your door to get them bands, my G hopped out, them niggas ran
|
| Spin on their block, let off some shots and let them boys know I ain’t playin'
|
| You say it’s up, bitch, what you sayin?
|
| Side of your house, that’s where we layin'
|
| When you walk out, we get to sprayin'
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| Pussy bitch, no, I ain’t playin'
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| That life he claim, I swear we livin' that
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| We takin', we ain’t givin' back
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| My feelings, put 'em in the trash
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| A hundred, got that shit in cash
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| Bitch, we 'bout beefin'
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| We hoppin' out of suburbans, midnight, we creepin'
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| I’m steady screamin' out murder, tryna get even
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| I’ma knock off your whole circle, on the way, we speedin'
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| I’m in a rush just to murk you
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| Livin' life real fast, movin' slow, I’m certain
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| Two lines of lean, Adderall and Perks
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| Cut 'em up a brick, then take their work
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| Matte black Hellcat, nigga, wheel go skrrt
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| Pull up, hop out, have your brain on the curb
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| We steady be slidin' from sun up to sun down
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| Slangin' iron for my niggas is fun now
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| Catch you leavin' out the store and get run down
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| No leg shot, you gettin' gunned down
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| Straight head shot, big gun sound
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| Fuck crime stoppers, we gon' hit their block up
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| 911, got one down
|
| My shooter’s jumpin' out the gym with a Glock all in his pants
|
| Only want two .38s, the place is payin' 30 bands
|
| Them shooters move on my command, I got 'em sticked up in the van
|
| Jump out gang, no we ain’t playin', face wrapped up, no Taliban
|
| Kick in your door to get them bands, my G hopped out, them niggas ran
|
| Spin on their block, let off some shots and let them boys know I ain’t playin'
|
| You say it’s up, bitch, what you sayin?
|
| Side of your house, that’s where we layin'
|
| When you walk out, we get to sprayin'
|
| Pussy bitch, no, I ain’t playin'
|
| You know
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| R.I.P. |
| Lil Sosa, you know
|
| It’s jump out gang forever, you know
|
| Free Lil Leeky, I just talked to him the other day on collect
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| He ready to get back in the backseat too, bitch ass nigga |