No talkin
Runnin up this bag im tryna pop juss like a soda
I'm on the block like every day lil bro come catch me in that rover
Doin a hunnid up in traffic the cops gone have to pull me over
I been blasting music turnt up wit sum groupies smokin on sum boujie
Yeen realy boolin
Yeen hittin yo target we shootin and we movin
Better not lemme find out you a goofy
Facts you kno we do this
We been on our ps and qs I put tht on yo dead homie
Last opp he tried to run from bro he left his legs runnin
I been gettin hella chesse ong kt get real money
How the hell he stop postin his rap but that check still comin
You been talkin shi like every day lil bro juss back up
I got bhaddie text me every day like they wanna back it up
You kno imma playa nigga I get the Pringle and stacc it up
Ian out hea cuffing nigga hoes lil boy that's not my slut
Niggas out hea petty tryna exspose a female abt they butt
Runnin up this check and throwin deuces ion while my nuts
Holdin nuts niggas realy out he straight but gay asf
Switches tucked, 2k up on my wrist I like to hold it up
I been stayin down wit a lil bhaddie but she bold as bru
I been tryna give niggas a countdown but they blowed it up
99 Problems but a hoe not even one
98 On this smity I get paid to shoot my gun
97 Niggas shootin 23s like they lebron
96 Glizzy stuffed up in the club like hotdogs buns
Niggas actin like it's thug life like 2 pac hit em up
Shannon wit me inna back of this bih wit the simmi tucked
Buck he nuck and we gone shoot it up
We livin like we up
Give no fuck
We don't give no fuck you kno we shoot it up
Came out the cut so many niggas you would've thought that we was blood
But we forever throwing up west he got my back cause that's my cuzz
So many shells left in the streets that's we're yo homie was
And we ain't tolerating no goofy nigga if yo gang a dub
Kno dd on the track you kno we finna make sum fye
I got potnas step on you and crush yo face juss like sum pie
Niggas clutching onna drac but I got pistols I got Sccy
Damn wea yo homie went damn that nigga inna sky
R.I.P to him
4 Of my niggas pockets full we walk around like baby them
We grab that boy up off the streets we creep we ain say hey to them
Ong we spinning real Benz we don't kno Mercedes them
Ong we ain no real friends I juss want to murder him
I'm on the block like every day lil bro come catch me in that rover
Doin a hunnid up in traffic the cops gone have to pull me over
I been blasting music turnt up wit sum groupies smokin on sum boujie
Yeen realy boolin
Yeen hittin yo target we shootin and we movin
Better not lemme find out you a goofy
Facts you kno we do this
We been on our ps and qs I put tht on yo dead homie
Last opp he tried to run from bro he left his legs runnin
I been gettin hella chesse ong kt get real money
How the hell he stop postin his rap but that check still comin
You been talkin shi like every day lil bro juss back up
I got bhaddie text me every day like they wanna back it up
You kno imma playa nigga I get the Pringle and stacc it up
Ian out hea cuffing nigga hoes lil boy that's not my slut
Niggas out hea petty tryna exspose a female abt they butt
Runnin up this check and throwin deuces ion while my nuts
Holdin nuts niggas realy out he straight but gay asf
Switches tucked, 2k up on my wrist I like to hold it up
I been stayin down wit a lil bhaddie but she bold as bru
I been tryna give niggas a countdown but they blowed it up
99 Problems but a hoe not even one
98 On this smity I get paid to shoot my gun
97 Niggas shootin 23s like they lebron
96 Glizzy stuffed up in the club like hotdogs buns
Niggas actin like it's thug life like 2 pac hit em up
Shannon wit me inna back of this bih wit the simmi tucked
Buck he nuck and we gone shoot it up
We livin like we up
Give no fuck
We don't give no fuck you kno we shoot it up
Came out the cut so many niggas you would've thought that we was blood
But we forever throwing up west he got my back cause that's my cuzz
So many shells left in the streets that's we're yo homie was
And we ain't tolerating no goofy nigga if yo gang a dub
Kno dd on the track you kno we finna make sum fye
I got potnas step on you and crush yo face juss like sum pie
Niggas clutching onna drac but I got pistols I got Sccy
Damn wea yo homie went damn that nigga inna sky
R.I.P to him
4 Of my niggas pockets full we walk around like baby them
We grab that boy up off the streets we creep we ain say hey to them
Ong we spinning real Benz we don't kno Mercedes them
Ong we ain no real friends I juss want to murder him
Credits
Writer(s): Keidryan Talton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 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.