Whoop (feat. Baby Grizzley)

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah
Whoa (the AK) whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa (okay, turn it up)
Whoa, whoa
I say
Whoa (keep it moving)
Whoa

Bitch, I'm eighty-deuce, but I fuck with the villains
Pull up in the 'Sanne, told the dealer keep the ceiling
White buffs, told the jeweler, "Bust down my trimming"
Nigga shot me, I ate before I was done healing
I ain't trippin' on no bitch, boy, my shoes ain't got strings in 'em (what?)
Two hundred thou' on your set, let the green get 'em
Four fifty clip, four MACs, I need beams with 'em
Ayy, and I was sneakin' in the stink with 'em

If you ain't with the gang-gang, stay from 'round niggas
You can't leave the crib like you grounded, we ground niggas
Ayy, I was raised around murder, still around killers
Me and Ronny Blaze players bros when we drown niggas
Ice man, it's a hundred on my neck
Tell your bitch, "Let me tongue kiss that pussy on the jet"
If I ain't bangin', I'm bangin', I put that on the set (on gang)
Take a picture with a fifty roll showin' the Patek

Niggas know who really got that shit, rock that shit
Pull up with the top on and drop that bitch
Cop a Mille plain, then I ice rock that bitch
Drippin' hard, I ain't know I had the opps that sick

Look, a hundred in my jacket, bitch, I mean profit
Trippin' out and found another thirty in my pocket
Fuck going broke, not an option if I'm honest
Real hundreds, I go brazy for the bucks like I'm Giannis
I feel like niggas ain't fuckin' with me, you on the net with it
I got a couple M's, jumpin' on the jet with it
I love that real right, but I'm on the left with it
Louis, drop six on the sweater like I'm set trippin'

Flag on the left, but it's red like a puddle of blood
My G good when I huddle with Bloods
Since the first day I met my nigga Cut, it was love
Free my nigga Gutter Ray Warren up to the stud
I say it's Grizzley Gang, a hundred and fifty chains
Clip with a fifty things, that talking'll get him flamed
These niggas leavin' the hood 'cause they ain't tryna get banged
It's murder after you mention my name

Niggas know who really got that shit, rock that shit
Pull up with the top on and drop that bitch
Cop a Mille plain, then I ice rock that bitch
Drippin' hard, I ain't know I had the opps that sick, yeah

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Yeah
Whoa (alright, let me hear that bitch)
Whoa, whoa (let me hear that bitch)
Whoa, whoa, whoa (let me hear that bitch)
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa



Credits
Writer(s): Terry Sanchez Wallace, Marcellus Wallace, Marlin Brandoe
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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