Warning

Come round here we don't no warnings
Get, hit up in the morning
Oppas are lame they're moving all boring
Sending these shots lay him down now he's snoring

Might put ten in his back like Messi
Don't stress me my bitch undress me
Down on your knees like you trying to bless me
Watch your mouth when you want to address me

I'll show you to my bitch, small and thick
I call her Nina
She's dirty and likes to spit out bullets
That's my nine millimeter

Iced out the Rolexes & Audemars
We're whipping this shit in the new foreign cars
Got new cuban links and all Cuban cigars
We aim for moons and we're shooting the stars

Randy Orton I got voices in my head
I know hittas real killas I'm a legend in the flesh
She wondering like why she always in my bed
Shawty asking me for breakfast but I gave her dick instead

Ridin round the city
My brother just rode in a Bentley
G Wagons I look at ceilings
Non existent none prevent me

That girl is so fine that I'm screwing
I fuck her guts now she's just spewing
The vivid pictures that I'm painting
She's always asking what I'm doing

Come round here we don't no warnings
Get, hit up in the morning
Oppas are lame they're moving all boring
Sending these shots lay him down now he's snoring

Might put ten in his back like Messi
Don't stress me my bitch undress me
Down on your knees like you trying to bless me
Watch your mouth when you want to address me

We come unexpected, this gun's unprotected
We're leaving the scene with this blood on our denim
The Porsche Carrera this nine mil Beretta
His soul disconnected we shot him with venom

Try talking on me then just talk on the net
Were leaving that block now his mum's all upset
This pack is from hell and were smoking he's dead
When I smoke on this Cali I never feel stressed

I've been grinding too long
I could never move wrong
Racks come in from these songs
Hundred bills in her thong

Hundred bills in her thong
I've been grinding too long
I could never move wrong
Racks come in from these songs

That choppa that choppa
I feel like I'm Rocky
I'm spazzing in every song
Someone come stop me

Mercedes Mercedes
A truck like G Wagon
We shootout like Compton
My crew get to capping

Grab the nank and then clean it
Bleach it, ballie on now I'm creeping
Stab him up and the coroner's cleaning
Beaming your future's just dead no meaning

Known for four doors nines in the ride
We do the seeking we don't hide
Got me a freak bitch I keep on the side
And when I look down she swallows her pride

Now she's texting and getting attached
Sorry baby think we're mismatched
No need to overreact
Blocked her number her heart collapsed

Come round here we don't no warnings
Get, hit up in the morning
Oppas are lame they're moving all boring
Sending these shots lay him down now he's snoring

Might put ten in his back like Messi
Don't stress me my bitch undress me
Down your on knees like you trying to bless me
Watch your mouth when you want to address me



Credits
Writer(s): Saint Balenci
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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