Lyrics Loot - $uicideboy$, Ramirez, Black Smurf

Loot

Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C
I got money on my mind, bitch, I’m blinded by the dollar signs
I’ll work a fucking nine-to-five instead of signin' dotted lines
By nine-to-five, I mean I’ve come to paint the town grey
With five fucking Nines, I’m tryna take what’s mine
Which happens to be everythin' that I see
Might be selfish of me, but if I don’t pick a side
Someone else is gettin' cash and pine
Dine and dash, scraps is rationed
Slash and gash, scratchin' rashes, catchin' rats
And slash its throat, end up like a maxi-pad, soaked
2−11, 187, send them bustas straight to heaven
If that nigga talkin' shit, then he gon' meet my Smith & Wesson
Creepin' out the fucking darkness
Smurkin' all these bustas, hoe
Fucking with the Devil, son, I rolls up on the flank, fo' sho'
Psychopathic lunatic, I’m looking for a soul to steal
I put that Glock up to yo' grill, and watch yo' punk ass fucking split
Look into my eyes, see the thang that burns inside
Fuckin' with that triple six, nigga, this shall be your demise
Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean
Stang, stangin' like a bumblebee, with my .45 G-L-O-C
Haven’t had to kill yet, but I was born a murderer
Triple six my nation, I’m the red devil’s chosen one
Break in through the back, give a fuck 'bout your burglar bars
When I was seventeen, remember when we would burgle cars
My favorite gun that .45, I love how it bust
Smoke leakin' out your chest, body stuffed in the trunk
I’m ridin' round in Hollygrove, best believe I got that strap
Can’t fuck with you bitches, but Oddy got my back
Still on that killa' klan
Creep up behind shit
Memphis made a nigga, so you know I’m used to violence
I feel you’re owed for slugs
Come play a thug
Automatic to his chest, have him coughin' up a lung
Catch a blast
May flood the cash
It be ya' ass
Think fast for that four fifth
Lay ya' in the grass
One-shot, turned into ash
So quick and fast, no joke
My nigga’s soaked
Stay out my path, nigga
Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean
Stang-stangin' like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean
Stang-stangin' like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C
Robbers, they hang in the hood where they ride clean
Stang-stangin' like a bumblebee
With my .45 G-L-O-C