Hi - Tech
Yeah
Pour it in a lemonade
Call us alphabet boys
'Cause my G he keep a 'K
Hair triggers on that gat
So who tryna cop a fade?
Caught yo' ma' up at the store
Tell me where your son
Yeah
Hi Tech, pour it in a lemonade
Call us alphabet boys
'Cause my G he keep a 'K
Hair triggers on that gat
So who tryna cop a fade?
Caught his ma' up at the store
Tell me where yo' son stay, yeah
Hi Tech
Got it messing with my vision
But the FN got a scope
So it barely make a difference
I'm a beast up in the field
Sending bullets with precision
Yeah, I made a base hit
Call me Verse P. Griffin (yuh)
Hi Tech
Got me moving in slow motion
I'm a real a silent nigga
I don't really do no gloating
Use to sneak it in the club
In my pocket steady poking
And my niggas stay on go
Better watch that shit you quoting (yeah)
Pop him, that's a quiz or a test
If you speaking on my gang then you bound to catch some wreck
Waffle iron, nigga you get pressed
Finesse that pack, I won't go back in debt
Kill all that shit, had to put it to rest
Money on my mind, put a bag on yo' head
(Yeah)
Too cold like the freezer
I'm tipping the scale, yeah I'm breaking the meter
Keep me a baddie, a clean mamasita
Cup full of mud, I really don't need it
Demon come out, yeah you know I'ma feed it
I don't want that thot, nigga you keep it
Still got the Glock, why you think I'm leaning?
I see a opp, on ma', I'm squeezing (yuh)
Pop him like a wheelie
I get in a scuffle I smack that boy silly
His bitch a fan
Now he wanna kill me
I showed him what's what
Swear I did him so filthy
I'm trippin and shit
Swear I'm geeked out my body
You already know who brought the sticks in the party
Meet me in the field you really wanna try me
Spin on you
Leave you like, who shot me?
Try me boy
Boy I really wouldn't do it
Turn you bluer than a side of a rubix
Cuban the only thing link to me
You in hot water
Ain't talking jacuzzi
Grave digger say he digging my music
What's the point?
Let me get back to it
They say this drink is a bad influence
Ah, whatever
I might just say screw it
Hi Tech
Pour it in a lemonade
Call us alphabet boys
'Cause my G he keep a 'K
Hair triggers on that gat
So who tryna cop a fade?
Caught yo' ma' up at the store
Tell me where yo' son stay (where yo' son stay)
Hi Tech (Hi Tech)
Hi Tech (Hi Tech)
Hi Tech (Hi Tech)
Hi Tech (Hi Tech)
Hi Tech
Pour it in a lemonade
Call us alphabet boys
'Cause my G he keep a 'K
Pour it in a lemonade
Call us alphabet boys
'Cause my G he keep a 'K
Hair triggers on that gat
So who tryna cop a fade?
Caught yo' ma' up at the store
Tell me where your son
Yeah
Hi Tech, pour it in a lemonade
Call us alphabet boys
'Cause my G he keep a 'K
Hair triggers on that gat
So who tryna cop a fade?
Caught his ma' up at the store
Tell me where yo' son stay, yeah
Hi Tech
Got it messing with my vision
But the FN got a scope
So it barely make a difference
I'm a beast up in the field
Sending bullets with precision
Yeah, I made a base hit
Call me Verse P. Griffin (yuh)
Hi Tech
Got me moving in slow motion
I'm a real a silent nigga
I don't really do no gloating
Use to sneak it in the club
In my pocket steady poking
And my niggas stay on go
Better watch that shit you quoting (yeah)
Pop him, that's a quiz or a test
If you speaking on my gang then you bound to catch some wreck
Waffle iron, nigga you get pressed
Finesse that pack, I won't go back in debt
Kill all that shit, had to put it to rest
Money on my mind, put a bag on yo' head
(Yeah)
Too cold like the freezer
I'm tipping the scale, yeah I'm breaking the meter
Keep me a baddie, a clean mamasita
Cup full of mud, I really don't need it
Demon come out, yeah you know I'ma feed it
I don't want that thot, nigga you keep it
Still got the Glock, why you think I'm leaning?
I see a opp, on ma', I'm squeezing (yuh)
Pop him like a wheelie
I get in a scuffle I smack that boy silly
His bitch a fan
Now he wanna kill me
I showed him what's what
Swear I did him so filthy
I'm trippin and shit
Swear I'm geeked out my body
You already know who brought the sticks in the party
Meet me in the field you really wanna try me
Spin on you
Leave you like, who shot me?
Try me boy
Boy I really wouldn't do it
Turn you bluer than a side of a rubix
Cuban the only thing link to me
You in hot water
Ain't talking jacuzzi
Grave digger say he digging my music
What's the point?
Let me get back to it
They say this drink is a bad influence
Ah, whatever
I might just say screw it
Hi Tech
Pour it in a lemonade
Call us alphabet boys
'Cause my G he keep a 'K
Hair triggers on that gat
So who tryna cop a fade?
Caught yo' ma' up at the store
Tell me where yo' son stay (where yo' son stay)
Hi Tech (Hi Tech)
Hi Tech (Hi Tech)
Hi Tech (Hi Tech)
Hi Tech (Hi Tech)
Hi Tech
Pour it in a lemonade
Call us alphabet boys
'Cause my G he keep a 'K
Credits
Writer(s): Cameron Thorne
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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