Accidental Shit Talking 2
(313 Mafia)
Hmm, uh, alright
Shit
(Trapboy3k)
Accidental shit talking
Y'all niggas can't fuck with me
(Stupid Dog, I ain't gon' lie, this bitch hard)
Niggas tryna act like me, buyin' cut drank
Girly got too much ass, I know her butt stink
Was finna shoot, then handed off the rock, that's a pump fake
Buckshots, bet if the Glock miss his ass, the pump ain't
I got the bags from LB, but the Runtz fake
I count the cash and DIP, bro, I couldn't stay
I might stay in Cali when I go re-up, I bought a one-way
Deebo, snatch his necklace, then be like, "What chain?"
Cup dirty, got up early and put up 30
I'ma keep a .40 on me like a drunk person
Dogshit, I been countin' 20s up since 1:30
You got two flip phones, but only one workin'
Found out a nigga hit my bitch, and I'm not mad
The Runtz bag say, "Joke's up," but I will not laugh
Percocets got my nuts itchin', I ain't got crabs
Bought a Sprite, then drunk the lean straight, now my pop mad
Just broke an M30 in half and let Louie take it
My bitch ass and titties fake, but her Gucci ain't
Been bustin' in the bitch a week straight, now her coochie stank
She wanna fuck, but keep talkin' 'bout my music, she a groupie, ain't she?
Bet if I ain't have a million views, she wouldn't let me hit it
Without my drugs, I'm only fuckin' for seven minutes
Baby, ghost'll knock your noodles back if I recommend it
But if I give him ten racks, it'll get detrimental
My shooter signed up for unemployment and bought seven Smittys
Bitch, I been winnin' for a while, I'm on level 60
Independent, makin' bands off rap, ain't a better feelin'
Ridin' 'round with K's out on bond, not the best decision
But it's that or let a pussy nigga catch me slippin'
If you look up shit talkin', I'm the definition
Come get a half a zip of soft for 11-50
Two standard clips, a 30 round, and an extra 50
With this Ghetto Boyz shit, I'm the ambassador
Come to us lookin' for smoke, you gon' catch cancer
Two RPs and a honey pack, I'ma rim-shake
Was tryna run a ten up, made 15, then I ran faster
Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga, you know what the fuck goin' on
Accidental shit talkin', nigga, yeah
That shit was on accident
Hmm, uh, alright
Shit
(Trapboy3k)
Accidental shit talking
Y'all niggas can't fuck with me
(Stupid Dog, I ain't gon' lie, this bitch hard)
Niggas tryna act like me, buyin' cut drank
Girly got too much ass, I know her butt stink
Was finna shoot, then handed off the rock, that's a pump fake
Buckshots, bet if the Glock miss his ass, the pump ain't
I got the bags from LB, but the Runtz fake
I count the cash and DIP, bro, I couldn't stay
I might stay in Cali when I go re-up, I bought a one-way
Deebo, snatch his necklace, then be like, "What chain?"
Cup dirty, got up early and put up 30
I'ma keep a .40 on me like a drunk person
Dogshit, I been countin' 20s up since 1:30
You got two flip phones, but only one workin'
Found out a nigga hit my bitch, and I'm not mad
The Runtz bag say, "Joke's up," but I will not laugh
Percocets got my nuts itchin', I ain't got crabs
Bought a Sprite, then drunk the lean straight, now my pop mad
Just broke an M30 in half and let Louie take it
My bitch ass and titties fake, but her Gucci ain't
Been bustin' in the bitch a week straight, now her coochie stank
She wanna fuck, but keep talkin' 'bout my music, she a groupie, ain't she?
Bet if I ain't have a million views, she wouldn't let me hit it
Without my drugs, I'm only fuckin' for seven minutes
Baby, ghost'll knock your noodles back if I recommend it
But if I give him ten racks, it'll get detrimental
My shooter signed up for unemployment and bought seven Smittys
Bitch, I been winnin' for a while, I'm on level 60
Independent, makin' bands off rap, ain't a better feelin'
Ridin' 'round with K's out on bond, not the best decision
But it's that or let a pussy nigga catch me slippin'
If you look up shit talkin', I'm the definition
Come get a half a zip of soft for 11-50
Two standard clips, a 30 round, and an extra 50
With this Ghetto Boyz shit, I'm the ambassador
Come to us lookin' for smoke, you gon' catch cancer
Two RPs and a honey pack, I'ma rim-shake
Was tryna run a ten up, made 15, then I ran faster
Ghetto Boyz shit, nigga, you know what the fuck goin' on
Accidental shit talkin', nigga, yeah
That shit was on accident
Credits
Writer(s): Damario Horne Mccullough, Daniel Robinson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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Altri album
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