Demon Mode

Trademark!

Ain't gotta turn on demon mode, that shit be automatic
Ain't gotta tell her, "Take 'em, off," that shit be automatic
See this lil' cube on the back, it make it automatic
Nigga ain't teach me to be real, that shit was automatic

Gave her what's under my belly, now, she love me
Walk in the building, now, all the pretty bitches tug me
Her hair got caught on my chain when she tried to hug me
Found out I hit his hoe, he see me and he mug me

Every time I see the camera, throw the gang up
We some dogs and got on chains, but they can't tame us
Every time that one corner get hit up, they blame us
We like a record label, make a nigga famous

Say he a lion, okay lion, still pussy
I'm like, "Bro, why the fuck you keep lookin'?"
Aim at his beak and have the whole crowd duckin'
The clip got somethin' in it, pull it 'til it's nothin'

They got hoes in the tele'
Racks in the duffle
Choppers in the Sprinter Van bust a nigga bubble
They say I'm all alone, I see they in a group
But, this lil' cube on the back'll break up a nigga huddle

What's the plan? (What's the plan?) What's the word? (What's the word)
You say they over there (they over there), fuck it, go and swerve
We really get into it (bang)
We really do it
We livin' what we rappin', we not just makin' music

Pull up 30D, but I'm by myself
Nardo, what you mean? I got like 29 shells
Hop that patty cake, that mean I hop that clappin' shit
Hop that Will Smith, that mean I hop that smackin' shit
And I keep that pipe, I feel like Pookie, nigga
I'm so icy, boy, I feel like Gucci, nigga
I make yo' block hot, I think I'm Tunechi, nigga
My lil' badass, I feel like Boosie, nigga

She got the nerve to pop a Perc' before I fuck her
Put yo' phone in the safe, then we can cuddle
We can fuck a thousand times, still ain't a couple
Or take you shoppin' 'cause I'm happy, and I ain't no sucker
Just like I left the barber shop, I'm comin' trim
Pull over, give you wood, yeah, I'm one of them
Blam 'em in the mall, yeah, I'm one of them
Damn, pussy boy can't call me, one of them

Pull up in what you run on in the 'Burbs
Threat who? Come again, say what? Lil' nigga got some nerves
"Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang," died because of words
"Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang," got what he deserve

Pull up Trackhawk, farm in my hood, lot of horses in 'em
She like a gun range
Know that 'ussy good, I keep bustin' in it
Like a toothpick, stick to his teeth like it's somethin' in it
Pointin' fingers, move it back and forth until you hear it clickin'

Ain't gotta turn on demon mode, that shit be automatic
Ain't gotta tell her, "Take 'em, off," that shit be automatic
See this lil' cube on the back, it make it automatic
Nigga ain't teach me to be real, that shit was automatic



Credits
Writer(s): Horace Walls, Tyler David Maline
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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