Nine on My Lap

Yo ah
Yo
Yo
Yo
Yo
Yo

I'm in the latest vette, pay respects, uh
This one for whippers that really make it stretch
I ain't too far from the curb, I still play the steps
Fuck a vest I snuck up on yo ass and razor ya neck
I'm coming through just waving my scat

Like I'm obsessed I ain't stopping 'til I put me a hole in ya chest
Cancel you out as if you were a threat
Or a bitch that keep callin' me and I'm just ignoring the text uhn
I'm in this bitch so let's pop some Moëts

Something told me to bring my glizzy I think it's a test
I usually got the tech when I pull up to
One wrong move that could get you left
Nigga say less

You better play cool when I'm around 'cause I stay strapped
Niggas really move and play ball with the big dogs
Gotta think of something else to call it this ain't rap
My nigga facts yo
It's demons on my back

That's why I keep a nina on my lap uh yo
That's why I keep this nina on my lap
Nigga that's why I keep this nina on my lap

Yea, I got this nina on my lap Nigga
The body dropped and he ain't hear a shot
I crept through that shortcut, I air his top
Three racks for my kicks, two hundred dollar pair of socks
I'm the new king, I'm D'Aaron Fox

Shot him on Davis found his body somewhere on fox
My life is a movie it can air on Fox (my life is a movie)
Double Rs on the truck, you gotta clear the lot (got outa my way yo)
I jump out blaring Pac and I ain't wear my watch
The bitches still stare and watch

Two 40s that's a pair of Glocks nine (okay)
Two traps, two stoves that's a pair of pots
Twelve fifty for my jeans, a few pair I cop
Camino tell me where to stop (tell me where to stop)
See me on Genesee I stare and drive

I just say the word, a little nigga come clear the block
Hollow tips hit him and tear his top
Rockin' this off white Louie all the bitches wanna know where I shop
A long way from dope, weed baggin

I'm OG status
You know me, I'm Kobe status
I don't be passive, with niggas
Nah, I'm gon' be at 'em
My album 'bout to drop

You know that shit is gon' be massive
It's gon be classic
MOB you know we blastin'
We don't be mackin'
Its gon' be static

We slide through, it's gon' be tragic
It's showtime, you gon' see magic
Funeral homes boy, it's gonna be caskets
Fifty shot sticky you know we has it



Credits
Writer(s): 0, Demond Price, Demetrius Rondale Jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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