| Brr
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| Ayo, brr
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| Brr
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| Brr, brr, brr
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| Ayo, everything we shootin' got scratched numbers (Boom boom boom boom boom
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| boom)
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| I bet I hit something, Hacksaw Jim Duggan (Ah)
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| Got a ring on every finger like I’m brick pumpin' (Ah)
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| Out the pot, yay wet like Trae Young jumper
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| If they pull us over, don’t say nothing (Don't fuckin' say nothing)
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| My chopper gotta owe you on the play button (On the fuckin' button)
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| Just dumped the bag, it didn’t weigh nothing (Ah)
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| Bricks white on white with coke in the Kate Hudson (Woo)
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| Pump to your kids, what’s the safe numbers? |
| (Fuck is the safe numbers?)
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| I’m Picasso with the paintbrushes (Ah)
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| Twenty-three in drop McLaren, honey mustard (Skrrt)
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| I came, Dame Dolla at the buzzer (Pew pew pew pew pew pew pew pew)
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| My youngin rag redder than a blood bath of roses (Woo)
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| Allergic to blue steel, got a gun rash from totin' (Pew pew pew pew)
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| Silent but deadly since he last reloaded (What else?)
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| That stick’ll part the Red Sea like the staff of Moses (Where we at with it?)
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| I cleared 'em all out if they heard that window break and shatter (Brr)
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| Extendo clips’ll have you fallin' down Jacob’s Ladder (Doot doot doot doot)
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| Leave your mama teary eyed, instill the fear of God (Let's get it)
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| Just the thought of me takin' his life make her even madder (Haha)
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| Bob and weavin', boxin' demons, leavin' Exodus (It's on)
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| Built for this shit just like my wrist because I’m pressure fit (Get 'em gone,
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| Jones)
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| Hook up a split, put on my mix just how my nephew wanted (Mafia)
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| That ain’t my brick if it ain’t hit, I put some extras on it (Haha)
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| Hold your funeral on your block, I put them steppers on it (What else?)
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| Roman numerals in my watch, leather Corinthian (What else?)
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| 'Fore I went in, was servin' white boys in the suburbs (Blocks)
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| While I was down, I opened up the Book of Proverbs (Uh-huh)
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| D.A. |
| diggin' up old dirt to make them bodies stick (You know it)
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| That’s when I learned that cleanliness was next to Godliness (Blockworks)
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| Long live Titus, we used to call him Uncle Fester (Blood)
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| Remember cryin' first time I served my Auntie Esther (Titi)
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| Twenty-five pints on the dresser next to the compressor (Press up)
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| It ain’t no pressure, niggas know me and my gang purgin' (Gang time)
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| Grammy nominated, me and him ain’t the same person (At all)
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| On a stack of Bibles, and it’s the King James version (Let's get it)
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| Church
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| Ain’t that the word on the street
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| FLYGOD
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| That’s the best shit
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| Griselda by Fashion Rebels |