Reptile
They be like... there go pht bby wit his grimy ass
Reptile slimy ass, cut throat and conniving ass
Choppa blast, homi tags, put him in a body bag
Go get the preacher, Lil Trey a creature I co-sign his ass
On the love don't slide for cash, let's make a nigga mama sad
Nigga play we find his ass, He pay that cost we fine his ass
Contract killers sign his ass, starch him down and iron his ass
Pull his card decline his ass, Face Shottem Blind His Ass
He forgot my jacket, fuck it- head shot a remind his ass
223 Bullets chop thru wood like it's karate class
Bullets fatter than fat Joe it blow, lean him back-recline his ass
Backem up Rewind His Ass, expiration his time done passed
T shirt, fuck it we gone get his face in front it
Yea- Feet Work, Walk Light-Tip toe while you hunting
Yea Research, do a background check on how I'm coming
Cause when we lurk, choppa Clips no less than 100
You get caught is you gone take yo lick
Yungin You fuckin right
When it's war you bet not have no picks
Yungin you fuckin right
You Pick up sticks, when it's time to blitz
Yungin you fucking right
I point my finger you gone split his shit
Yungin you fuckin right
Reptile slimy ass, cut throat and conniving ass
Choppa blast, homi tags, put him in a body bag
Go get the preacher, Lil Trey a creature I co-sign his ass
On the love don't slide for cash, let's make a nigga mama sad
Nigga play we find his ass, He pay that cost we fine his ass
Contract killers sign his ass, starch him down and iron his ass
Pull his card decline his ass, Face Shottem Blind His Ass
He forgot my jacket, fuck it- head shot a remind his ass
223 Bullets chop thru wood like it's karate class
Bullets fatter than fat Joe it blow, lean him back-recline his ass
Backem up Rewind His Ass, expiration his time done passed
T shirt, fuck it we gone get his face in front it
Yea- Feet Work, Walk Light-Tip toe while you hunting
Yea Research, do a background check on how I'm coming
Cause when we lurk, choppa Clips no less than 100
You get caught is you gone take yo lick
Yungin You fuckin right
When it's war you bet not have no picks
Yungin you fuckin right
You Pick up sticks, when it's time to blitz
Yungin you fucking right
I point my finger you gone split his shit
Yungin you fuckin right
Credits
Writer(s): Dmichael Youngblood
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2025 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.