Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Freestyle, artist - YFN Lucci. Album song HIStory, Lost Pages, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 27.02.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Think It's A Game, Warner
Song language: English
Freestyle |
These niggas be cotton soft, knock it off |
I got your down bitch tryna top me off |
I hit a button to pull out your residence |
Six nines, I hit him, I heard he was tellin' shit |
Ooh, playin' with the keys like Ray Charles |
Step in that spot only usin' my facecard |
Brrt, callin' my 'migos on takeoff |
I got that drop on that boy, he gon' take off (Ooh) |
Tell the bitch, «Shake that» (Shake that) |
Feelin' like Diddy, I take that, take that |
Like you in the wrong, ho, you know we gon' take that, huh |
You look like a snack, so we ate that, huh |
You shot up my block, I want payback, huh |
You know I’m protected like latex, huh |
Uh, these niggas be cap like an A’s hat |
I’m in Baltimore like that’s where I stay at |
Hit up Izzy, man, you know he don’t play that, huh |
I need like two of 'em ASAP, yeah |
I need 'em gone like ASAP |
Fuck that, we get 'em gone fast like a racetrack |
Lyin' in bushes right where he stay at |
Want a closed casket, then why you ain’t say that? |
I rep that C, third letter the alphabet |
He got them P’s, why he ain’t tell me that? |
He want some smoke? |
Hope he inhalin' that |
Sinkin' his boat, where was he sailin' at? |
Look, I got that scope, I’m peelin' that melon back |
In the back with the ceiling cracked |
I got that AK-40 and the MAC |
Lettin' it clap, playin' pitty-pat |
One in the back, where is Ricky at? |
I’m a real dope boy, ain’t with that chitter-chat |
Nigga, you trade, tell him to let 'em out |
I feel like Pootie Tang pullin' leather out |
I feel like Goldmouf, diamonds in my mouth |
Louis V leather all on my couch |
I might just pick up some beef that Lu had |
I just might hit up a nigga 'cause Izzy mad |
Niggas just hit up my mans, I’ma get 'em back |
Treat 'em like Wayne, where was the ceiling at? |
We run the streets, they run the internet |
I’m T.I., where your cookie at? |
Pull up, we shootin' your residence |
We shootin' schools, we shootin' like, «Where was the bully at?» |
Fully strapped, we got the hoodie, yeah |
We pull up, leave 'em slumped |
He reppin' Blood, left him bleedin', huh |
I’m reppin' C, I’ma see him, huh |
Yeah, I’ma see him out, see what that Blood 'bout to be about |
I said brody ain’t my blood, but I left him bleedin' |
Caught in my car, but I left him crumpled, yeah |
When I’m in the club, got my pistol, yeah |
If I ever mug, I’ma get you |
Sat in my two-seater, my bitch, she a diva, yeah |
On my hip, I got my nina, yeah |
Right on the curb, he’ll leave ya, huh |
Now he got a stripe like Adidas, uh |