| These niggas be cotton soft, knock it off
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| I got your down bitch tryna top me off
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| I hit a button to pull out your residence
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| Six nines, I hit him, I heard he was tellin' shit
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| Ooh, playin' with the keys like Ray Charles
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| Step in that spot only usin' my facecard
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| Brrt, callin' my 'migos on takeoff
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| I got that drop on that boy, he gon' take off (Ooh)
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| Tell the bitch, «Shake that» (Shake that)
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| Feelin' like Diddy, I take that, take that
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| Like you in the wrong, ho, you know we gon' take that, huh
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| You look like a snack, so we ate that, huh
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| You shot up my block, I want payback, huh
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| You know I’m protected like latex, huh
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| Uh, these niggas be cap like an A’s hat
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| I’m in Baltimore like that’s where I stay at
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| Hit up Izzy, man, you know he don’t play that, huh
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| I need like two of 'em ASAP, yeah
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| I need 'em gone like ASAP
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| Fuck that, we get 'em gone fast like a racetrack
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| Lyin' in bushes right where he stay at
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| Want a closed casket, then why you ain’t say that?
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| I rep that C, third letter the alphabet
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| He got them P’s, why he ain’t tell me that?
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| He want some smoke? |
| Hope he inhalin' that
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| Sinkin' his boat, where was he sailin' at?
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| Look, I got that scope, I’m peelin' that melon back
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| In the back with the ceiling cracked
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| I got that AK-40 and the MAC
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| Lettin' it clap, playin' pitty-pat
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| One in the back, where is Ricky at?
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| I’m a real dope boy, ain’t with that chitter-chat
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| Nigga, you trade, tell him to let 'em out
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| I feel like Pootie Tang pullin' leather out
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| I feel like Goldmouf, diamonds in my mouth
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| Louis V leather all on my couch
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| I might just pick up some beef that Lu had
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| I just might hit up a nigga 'cause Izzy mad
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| Niggas just hit up my mans, I’ma get 'em back
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| Treat 'em like Wayne, where was the ceiling at?
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| We run the streets, they run the internet
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| I’m T.I., where your cookie at?
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| Pull up, we shootin' your residence
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| We shootin' schools, we shootin' like, «Where was the bully at?»
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| Fully strapped, we got the hoodie, yeah
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| We pull up, leave 'em slumped
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| He reppin' Blood, left him bleedin', huh
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| I’m reppin' C, I’ma see him, huh
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| Yeah, I’ma see him out, see what that Blood 'bout to be about
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| I said brody ain’t my blood, but I left him bleedin'
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| Caught in my car, but I left him crumpled, yeah
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| When I’m in the club, got my pistol, yeah
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| If I ever mug, I’ma get you
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| Sat in my two-seater, my bitch, she a diva, yeah
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| On my hip, I got my nina, yeah
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| Right on the curb, he’ll leave ya, huh
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| Now he got a stripe like Adidas, uh |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Freestyle , by - YFN Lucci. Song from the album HIStory, Lost Pages, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп