Intro

Ay, ah, yeah, ayy, yea, yea, yea (gun shots)
Ay, hol' up, yea
Jayo

All that fake ass clique reppin, get to steppin'
We reckless, when we in the club shit get hectic
My section, loves toting glocks, smith and wesson
They call me Jayo Sama cause' I got weapons
Band it up, my team on like we hit the lotto
I'm dreaded up, smoking on Jamaican like Movado
I'm strapped up sliding in the splat like grand theft auto
Desperado, hit you niggas with the semi-auto
I ain't sleepin' but this codeine got me leaning
I thank god for oxygen but gas what I'm breathing
I know niggas who kill for no reason
Nigga top get peeled then we leave him
Free my niggas up the road or locked up in the county
Yall down me, that's why I keep you fuck niggas from round me
Was wildin', seen my mugshot so they doubted me
Demons in my head, I gotta get them out of me
Hold up', you ain't from where im from if you don't know us
I'm Zoe'd up, pull up on you then them windows roll up
Ain't rolling with them "Zoejas" then you get rolled over
Fuck a nigga and a pussy thot we show no love
Walked in her room and asked her what we bout to get into
She said you a fool, Jayo I ain't bout' to play with you
She gave me rules and regulations but I break the rules
I gotta get this cake, I ain't got time to cake with you
Niggas holding grudges cause I flipped they hoe in middle school
Keep that bitch, told her the truth, like girl your pussy pitiful
You wanna beef, nigga I'm down, lil Jayo keep a tool
Ain't my fault yo lil bitch get loose
Cause she heard Jayo got the juice

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ooh, ooh
Hold up, yeah, ooh, ooh
Yeah, Jay, ooh



Credits
Writer(s): Joseph W Cote
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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