Lyrics

Lemme know when it drop Nuez Real shit Dade County, Flint shit, nigga SG, yeah, yeah, yeah Y3 puffer, it's cool out (Yeah) Had my mama crib smellin' loud, I had to move out (Real shit) Just sold ten, got twenty more I can move now (Yeah, yeah) Yeah (Yeah), yeah Hit my number, I want racks (I want racks), I want racks (I want racks) Need my plug to show me love on them packs (On them packs) Love my bitch, but that bitch, she a brat (She a brat) Took a trip to get that bitch off my back (Off my back) With my other ho (Yeah), just touched down (Just touched down) 20K off them P's what we touch now (What we touch now) Yeah, knock knock, not like a joke (Ain't nothin' funny, nigga) Knock knock like more money at the door (Cash Only) Yeah (Yeah), yeah Yeah, it's cut, but they love the cheap dope (Real shit, ayy) Uh, yeah (Yeah), yeah Gun in my hand when I peep the peephole, I don't trust shit Bring your Glock to the hood, let's have a shootout Bought a 2020 'Vette, blew the roof out I know them hoes hit blow, I brought some oot out Lil' sixty racks on me, brought the loot out Ridin' with the old K, I don't give a fuck who out Lil' dog ain't use his brain, it got blew out Hit your bitch and broke the bedframe, she got blew out After I bust my nut, she got threw out Like Phil did that nigga Jazz on Fresh Prince Thirty for a slab, this a fresh brick But he don't even know this a pressed brick Drop a hundred shots out the Glock, it jammed, had to reset it Yeah, nigga, I'm so extra If I buy a deuce from you, I want my extras I can't go a day without my medicine Every nigga 'round me got a felony So Da Yung OG broke, that's what you tellin' me Bitch, shut the fuck up and suck my letter D Nowadays, it's ninety-five hundred for a letter E I'm actually glad I caught that case, made a better me I don't know what I'd do, I'm scared of me Five years for a forty rock, that's unfair to me But that came with the game I'm in That nigga name on paperwork, I can't hang with him Niggas talkin' 'bout I told, go read again Switchin' up every week, you would never know what we in Couldn't find no K9s, I took three 10s My nigga got twelve years for three attempts Y3 puffer, it's cool out (Yeah) Had my mama crib smellin' loud, I had to move out (Real shit) Just sold ten, got twenty more I can move now (Yeah, yeah) Yeah (Yeah), yeah Hit my number, I want racks (I want racks), I want racks (I want racks) Need my plug to show me love on them packs (On them packs) Love my bitch, but that bitch, she a brat (She a brat) Took a trip to get that bitch off my back (Off my back) With my other ho (Yeah), just touched down (Just touched down) 20K off them P's what we touch now (What we touch now) Yeah, knock knock, not like a joke (Ain't nothin' funny, nigga) Knock knock like more money at the door (Cash Only) Yeah (Yeah), yeah Yeah, it's cut, but they love the cheap dope (Real shit, ayy) Uh, yeah (Yeah), yeah Gun in my hand when I peep the peephole, I don't trust shit I'm really havin' heavy pape', you can see the shit Fly past in somethin' fast, you just seen a glimpse They like, "Why you ridin' with all them damn guns?" 'Cause we legit Nigga, stop runnin' your mouth and go eat a dick My nigga Salem walked in with a clean pint 5K on drank every day, it been three nights Nigga, that's fifteen racks, I could've bought some ice I could've got you ten packs, but you ain't talkin' right Out on bond for a dope case, got me walkin' light Me and Mike fucked the world up from talkin' spice Got a white bitch with blond hair, she a walkin' lice I heard your daddy was a rat, you a walkin' mice Last nigga we got into it with lost his life Feds took all my rights to carry guns, so I bought a knife Tryna stack this shit up, I sold my car, went and bought a bike Niggas study us so much, now we talk alike Man, y'all niggas is some- biters Yeah, y'all niggas is some dick biters Hit him with the K up close, start a big fire I'm tryna bust this Wock' script, let me hit Meijers I just drunk too much lean, I need a big water Dropped a hundred in the crowd and hit six towers Watched Gusto make thirty racks, he hit six targets Got some real dog food, you hear this shit barkin' Big camera just popped up and I'm just parkin' Try to rob us, gettin' popped up and I ain't just talkin' The first body that I caught was with a SIG Sauer I'll pour a deuce of red in some Flint Water Nigga Get real dirty 'round this bitch, nigga Y'all niggas can't fuck with us, nigga This shit on the floor Ghetto Boyz shit
Writer(s): Damario Horne-mccullough Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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