Blokk Hot 2

You niggas want beef but im up in the stu
And im cooking ain't talking no mutha fucking kitchen
I come from the four where they whipping they wrist in the kitchen
Aint talking no mutha fucking dishes
And bitch i bet a fuck nigga wont diss me
I put him on fire set off one of these missiles
And dont say i got no respect for the nigga im paying his mama a pension killed em
Sheesh

Yea im really really from the trenches
Where the dead bodies rot in the mutha fucking ditches
Seen the op hop out go get em
Fuck nigga pop out im with it
Ride hot drop top in the winter
Trying to run up get bread get millions
Stack it way up to the ceiling
I got tunnel vision I dont see no bullshit
I aint playing with 'em not even a little bit
Glock .45 and a nigga aint gon' miss shit
Ooh look mama i just hit a lick lick
Came up on a band yea im about to go and flip shit
Bad bitch, big booty, make a flick flick
T shirt, no draws, watching netflix
Got shooters on call so dont flex shit
Mask off, guns out, if you test me

You know i was deep in these streets
I was ducking and dodging from all of them felonies
I had to reup every week
And never got caught ain't no mutha fucking catching me
Try me put a nigga to sleep
Yea I'm bagging him up like I'm shopping at Beverlys
I got hitters on go that aint cheap
They gon shoot at whatever i say so dont play with me
You know i was deep in these streets
I was ducking and dodging from all of them felonies
I had to reup every week
And never got caught ain't no mutha fucking catching me
Try me put a nigga to sleep
Yea I'm bagging him up like I'm shopping at Beverlys
I got hitters on go that aint cheap
They gon shoot at whatever i say so dont play with me



Credits
Writer(s): Djuan Keys
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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