Message (feat. Muwop, DqFrmDaO)
I don't even get high
(JD on the track) on foenem grave, huh?
Get back, ayy (Kilo made this)
Ayy
Boy, this shit just started, bitch, this shit ain't over
I don't know what they told you, I'm a shotta and I be with soldiers
Ain't no playing around, catch him, man down
Bitch, I'm on this mission, get back with me
Choppa fan him down
Choppa fan him down, bitch, we shooting at the crowd
We rock shows like Rolling Loud
Just pop, stretch him, roll him out
Get that drop, we get to rushing, pistols busting
You need repercussion
Glizzy toast him, ain't no tussling
Boy, somebody call that nigga mother
'Wop, I'm feeling youngest
Catch him, make that nigga fumble
BJ, DQ smoking ganja
In a highspeed chase, just me and Gunna
I be in them trenches with folksnem packing pistols
They know Muwop, I get busy, Glock 23 come with 50
This shit won't end, we gon' spin around that Benz
Spin again, ayy, we can't catch him, we gon' hit his kin
Hawk him down, ayy, choppa bullets popping out FNs
It's gon' get crazy, uh, we considered like the navys
Strapped up like the navy, we be blazing
Make the bullets chase him
We gon' see you later, Glizzy face him
Off this Earth, run that block, I got them pesos
More shoes, I lace them, put 'em on
And all my niggas, we so dangerous
You can't tame us, we walk up on strangers
Like Reggie, shoot like Pacers
That boy, we gon' erase him
Walk up, don't do no chasing
Mask on me just like Jason
O'Block, we running town
Free Duke, we holding it down
It's still fuck all the opps
We still gon' put 'em in the ground
Fill that Glock up with them tracers
Light 'em up and chase 'em
Send him up to the maker, no, it ain't no saving him
Swinging sticks with them beams, shit look like some lasers
I pop out where you sleep, better hope you make it out
(JD on the track) on foenem grave, huh?
Get back, ayy (Kilo made this)
Ayy
Boy, this shit just started, bitch, this shit ain't over
I don't know what they told you, I'm a shotta and I be with soldiers
Ain't no playing around, catch him, man down
Bitch, I'm on this mission, get back with me
Choppa fan him down
Choppa fan him down, bitch, we shooting at the crowd
We rock shows like Rolling Loud
Just pop, stretch him, roll him out
Get that drop, we get to rushing, pistols busting
You need repercussion
Glizzy toast him, ain't no tussling
Boy, somebody call that nigga mother
'Wop, I'm feeling youngest
Catch him, make that nigga fumble
BJ, DQ smoking ganja
In a highspeed chase, just me and Gunna
I be in them trenches with folksnem packing pistols
They know Muwop, I get busy, Glock 23 come with 50
This shit won't end, we gon' spin around that Benz
Spin again, ayy, we can't catch him, we gon' hit his kin
Hawk him down, ayy, choppa bullets popping out FNs
It's gon' get crazy, uh, we considered like the navys
Strapped up like the navy, we be blazing
Make the bullets chase him
We gon' see you later, Glizzy face him
Off this Earth, run that block, I got them pesos
More shoes, I lace them, put 'em on
And all my niggas, we so dangerous
You can't tame us, we walk up on strangers
Like Reggie, shoot like Pacers
That boy, we gon' erase him
Walk up, don't do no chasing
Mask on me just like Jason
O'Block, we running town
Free Duke, we holding it down
It's still fuck all the opps
We still gon' put 'em in the ground
Fill that Glock up with them tracers
Light 'em up and chase 'em
Send him up to the maker, no, it ain't no saving him
Swinging sticks with them beams, shit look like some lasers
I pop out where you sleep, better hope you make it out
Credits
Writer(s): Joao Victor Alba Duarte, Derrick Johnathan Jr Crudup, Deandre Campbell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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