Picasso

G-Lock come with that compact
Ricky got hit in his back when he tried to run back
We in that free car we bout to slide
Yea this ain't no trampoline nigga you not bout to bounce back
The nigga was lost, he tryn find his way back
Grams of the funnel, lil nigga you taste that
I'm trapping out Deleware state, I'm taxing for shit,
But Delaware don't got no state tax
Pepto Bismo, we boutta pour it up
We get em gone if a nigga try and fuck with us
He bout to float like a motherfucking rubber duck
Gun on my side, it's up and its stuck with us
Put that beam on his eye, we made him a cyclops
I'm staying sharp and I'm keeping one up
Keep that shit in my dip incase niggas try run up
We staying ahead they not bout to catch us
We painting his block I feel like Picasso
I'm leading the blind, you know they gone follow
I got my Cartiers on, nigga Johnny Bravo
Roll down the window and hit out the Tahoe
We put a hole in a nigga and left him with hallows
I been trapping since a younging, feel like I'm Rallo
You purping out with vest, I aim at your neck,
Red tip, you bout to swallow

Uh, purp out give him a face shot
That nigga tipping he stay hot
Damn, we boutta slide with the moonrock
Don't hit my phone if it ain't bout the mula
Slide in the Uhaul, we boutta move ya
I'm inching up, take me to your ruler
RPG, I'm loading bazookas
Bro boutta blast ya, I'm boutta boom ya
We closing his curtains, the nigga was setting up
I took a boat to the ocean to hit me a sitting duck
Niggas was capping, this shit wasn't adding up
We had to replace him, the nigga was acting up
You gotta be crazy if you think you made me
I been jamming so long, my eyes getting lazy
I ain't gone show up if you don't pay me
Pay upfront and I do the show later
Im bout to give em a hundred
Its P's in the air, I ship it, I front it
He said that we beefing but niggas still bluffing
He fuck with the feds, but he keep it undercover
I ain't having no baby, I sharp with a rubber
Pull up with that hitta and give him a cutta
Chrome to his dome, we giving concussions
He home alone with a brick in the oven
Knock on the door lil nigga, it's nothing
I'm boutta slide on you and your brother
You thought you was slick, talking on the gram, I got a hitta and he got a cutter
I'm in the driver and he in the passenger
Roll down the window and he boutta crush ya
Baby Draco, we loading it fully with blue tips
We hit a smurf then we hit another
Fox 5, we the one's causing the static
Yea, we them young niggas having
Slide in a shopping cart and we gon' bag em
Slide with a laser, we gon' tag em
Just ran up 30 G's straight of a backend
I'm the King of PG, ain't no question about it
When we park your car, you ain't getting around it
I'm in a PJ, I'm bout to ground it
We got that prom off the counter
We bout to wet that boy up like a fountain
Put them bullets in the air, we give him a shower
Play with my money, you catching a thousand
I put a band on your head, get you gone for a thousand
I'm hitting licks, I ain't have an allowance
My uncle keep that 42 in his trousers
Junkies outside wait in line for that powder
Hop in that free car
I got a hundred for niggas, that drum bout to T off
We riping his face off, It's three heads smacked in the car, Yea we made him TakeOff
We in the playoffs pull up from the corner, I'm shooting that 3 like Kawhi
Put a hole in his kite, he not bout to fly
We got them drakes like the Russians, if I'm lying I'm flying



Credits
Writer(s): Lul Ri
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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