Kool Bool (feat. Brotha B)

Ayo Miles, run it up

1 in the head

I got some...
Dark shades for the hate
Watchin out for the fakes
Move around with the snakes
Keep a low cut grass
Got a pile from a rake
No fork when I eat
There's a lot on my plate

Just don't lie to my face
My money lottery weight
Bring the pot let's bake
Lotta pot no chafe
Lotta pot no shake
Lotta pack overweight
Give em pack all smoke
All the smoke no wake
Know the gang don't play
Do ya thang we don't hate
(Go ahead do ya thing)
Stay out our way and you'll be ok

All of my Villains they rollin
They got my back I know that's for sure
I got the pack only for the blowin
It's in the bag but it's my cologne
(It's my cologne you know that it's strong)
My shooter good with the range
Ain't missin when shootin your way
Hungry bullets will chew up ya face
Eat ya food we ain't sayin no grace
Dark shades for the hate
And we know what to do with the snakes
Move em round with the K
If they pop out the grass
Keep a mower or a rake
Roll em up like a leaf
Break em down like 8ths

Aye
Kool... bool
Fillin it up like a scho
Bus
Beam it came right on the tool
Plush
I'm runnin right up on who?
You, shoot
I aim it right at ya throat

Hold it, it's leakin
New bitch all the way open
Poke her, stroke her
She lovin jus how it go in
(My baby)
I only want pussy she know it
Look at her, sad
I'm back to the money I'm focused

I got some...
Dark shades for the hate
Watchin out for the fakes
Move around with the snakes
Keep a low cut grass
Got a pile from a rake
No fork when I eat
There's a lot on my plate

A lot of these bitches be breakin rules
They like to go out of bounds with it
Let her know from the jump she ain't my woman so do what you want I ain't bout to trip
A lot of my n they lookin for licks
You look like a drip we drown ya shit
Half of his pack was fake weed but half of my money was counterfeit
See how he swing and I counter it?
I bet he ain't even count the shit
Counting down and they goin like andele
Studio n a show all in one day
Showin love to the crowd make em rock out
Homie press the promoter for knots
No smokin I'll still pull the pot out
Hoe quit talkin you fuckin up my count

Hold it, it's leakin
New bitch all the way open
Poke her, stroke her
She lovin just how it go in

I only want pussy she kno it
Look at her. sad
I'm back to the money I'm focused

Kool... bool
Fillin it up like a scho
Bus
Beam it came right on the tool
Plush
I'm runnin right up on who?
You, shoot
I aim it right at ya throat

I got some...
Dark shades for the hate
Watchin out for the fakes
Move around with the snakes
Keep a low cut grass
Got a pile from a rake
No fork when I eat
There's a lot on my plate

Just don't lie to my face
My money lottery weight
Bring the pot let's bake
Lotta pot no chafe
Lotta pot no shake
Lotta pack overweight
Give em pack all smoke
All the smoke no wake
Know the gang don't play
Do ya thang we don't hate
(Go head do ya thing)
Stay out our way and you'll be ok



Credits
Writer(s): Robert Smalls
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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