Pop Shit

Yeah, uh
Uh, yeah

Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit

Wait, ride with my block, ride with my steez, pop shit
I ain't need help, I got the keys, locksmith
Fuck who the best, I clean up mess, mop shit
Get shit off my chest, I took too many steps, Rocket
James Harden, my fame gone and my game on
When I get back, leave, and they all find us, I can't father
And a lot haters said I could, became your father
That's just 'Pac shit, now I pop shit, REAS' in cockpits
Wait, high as planes, my stock is raised, let's be honest
I was ballin' way before the bucks, feel like Giannis
Antetokoumnpo, these niggas is too slow, done found me a loophole
Competition, I been takin' care of niggas, it's a group home
Stacks, been gettin' plenty, spittin' crack in inner cities
Rap game, had to stick my foot in
Like eenie-meenie-minie-moe to you niggas
Feel like the G.O.A.T. to you niggas
Also known as Prince of Del Amo to you niggas, wait

Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (Wait)
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (Wait)
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (Wait, wait)

Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (Yeah)
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (Yeah)
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (Uh, yo)

Dance on my heels, mind business still
Plug in my wheel, dubs what I fear, ride for my tears, wait
Die for my block, rise in that pot
Lead to my opps, dead in that box, stones in my bop (Woo)
God in my rack, shells on that ass and I know it (Yeah)
How dare niggas speak my name and they ain't glowin'? (What?)
Jumpin' out that big boy thing, the gun smokin' (Uh)
Was back seatin' when loccin' was no gimme (Ayy)
Now benji, ayy, it's Blueface, baby, and I'm greedy (Blueface baby)
Keep eatin', uh, chef boy groovy while y'all sleepin'
Yo, we feastin', ayy, nine years in it, it's still pink, and yo
Let's go for ten, uh, belt's snuggy, he got them M's, huh? (Yeah)
Benz, rim rub, big bank, the main shooter (Shooter)
The house tulips, palm trees, the crib Cuba (Yeah)
The ox bandit, blank face, the crash landin'
The gun toter, one dream, to win solo (Brrt)

Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit

Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit



Credits
Writer(s): Quincy Matthew Hanley, Robert Lee Jr. Gill
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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