Who Is You
Free wop, aye justo
Free my nigga slick
I gotta pull my pants up my ass
Free, free my nigga you know
I need that
You know, you got to spend money to make money
Glo gang y'all know how we rocking man
I'm off three xans I don't even do xans
I pop X man, I pop flats man
Aye, shut the fuck up
Boy gon' duck when my orange on him
Shoot you now it's orange on ya (red on ya)
Now it's dead on ya
Dead mans in my pockets, and I spend all 'em
On four thousand gucci jackets
She gave me top then gucci tapped it
Tag team, then I hop in my car drag wrestling, racing
You pacing, I'm racing to the cake and I'm icey
You basic
Every fucking thing I wear costs a thousand, or better
For gucci sweater three thousand... Three thousand burberry
Riding fast the cops is chasing me
They can get wet with them pistols playin' Hail Mary
Cause I'm tired of getting locked up
That's the reason that officer got shot up
Running with this paper like a running back
Boy, you can't get none of that
Foghorn, I'ma let this dog out at you
Bull Dog, coming through fuck the law
Bitch I go by justglo
Shoot yo' ass in yo' throat
Niggas know I'm Glo
I'm tryna get them rolls
Justo tryna get them rolls
See a opp, he gon' scope
After doing hits, make the kill, call D-moe
I think I need a pill and I need some smoke
Bring some pound, bring some Remey, bring the hoes
It's all about the Glo, free D-rose
Who is you? I don't know
Move around, cock it back, I'ma blow, GRATARA!
Kill your father and your mother and your fucking son
Bitch I glow just like the sun
I'm Glo gang nigga fuck your mom
My life gucci and it's a movie
I got clips just like a fuckin' movie
Quentin Tarantino, with these pistols I think I'm Terintino
Bitch I think I'm Godfather, off this dope Tony Montana
But I'm Sosa and I glo way harder
Bitch and I ain't have no father
Now I'm finna hop up in my Rover
Free my nigga slick
I gotta pull my pants up my ass
Free, free my nigga you know
I need that
You know, you got to spend money to make money
Glo gang y'all know how we rocking man
I'm off three xans I don't even do xans
I pop X man, I pop flats man
Aye, shut the fuck up
Boy gon' duck when my orange on him
Shoot you now it's orange on ya (red on ya)
Now it's dead on ya
Dead mans in my pockets, and I spend all 'em
On four thousand gucci jackets
She gave me top then gucci tapped it
Tag team, then I hop in my car drag wrestling, racing
You pacing, I'm racing to the cake and I'm icey
You basic
Every fucking thing I wear costs a thousand, or better
For gucci sweater three thousand... Three thousand burberry
Riding fast the cops is chasing me
They can get wet with them pistols playin' Hail Mary
Cause I'm tired of getting locked up
That's the reason that officer got shot up
Running with this paper like a running back
Boy, you can't get none of that
Foghorn, I'ma let this dog out at you
Bull Dog, coming through fuck the law
Bitch I go by justglo
Shoot yo' ass in yo' throat
Niggas know I'm Glo
I'm tryna get them rolls
Justo tryna get them rolls
See a opp, he gon' scope
After doing hits, make the kill, call D-moe
I think I need a pill and I need some smoke
Bring some pound, bring some Remey, bring the hoes
It's all about the Glo, free D-rose
Who is you? I don't know
Move around, cock it back, I'ma blow, GRATARA!
Kill your father and your mother and your fucking son
Bitch I glow just like the sun
I'm Glo gang nigga fuck your mom
My life gucci and it's a movie
I got clips just like a fuckin' movie
Quentin Tarantino, with these pistols I think I'm Terintino
Bitch I think I'm Godfather, off this dope Tony Montana
But I'm Sosa and I glo way harder
Bitch and I ain't have no father
Now I'm finna hop up in my Rover
Credits
Writer(s): Keith Cozart
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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