agent47

Let 'em say what he want, I'll make him fold
Keep that thang tucked
Keep the people I hate close
We gon' chop his body up and leave him in the cold
This shit don't get old
Bleed that bitch, bleed that bitch, same color as rose
Same color my pole
I be wit' my hoe
I know he don't tote
We done caught him lacking
We gon' catch him at the store
All these straps illegal
They can't track me I'm on go
Agent 47 with that '74 I'm pro

'74 I'm pro, my bro on death row
Pull up on some fuck shit, leave you fucked up, like fo' sho'
12 like "Who that?" ion know, cannot snake my bro
Stab you in stomach make yo' pussy ass die slow
Yeah you bitch made, ask what yo' bitch take
Boy you know that blick fake, I know all yo shit fake
Run up on me wit that fufu shit, boy that's a mistake
Yeah run up on me, that yo' life

Let 'em say what he want, I'll make him fold
Keep that thang tucked
Keep the people I hate close
We gon' chop his body up and leave him in the cold
This shit don't get old
Bleed that bitch, bleed that bitch, same color as rose
Same color my pole
I be wit' my hoe
I know he don't tote
We done caught him lacking
We gon' catch him at the store
All these straps illegal
They can't track me I'm on go
Agent 47 with that '74 I'm pro

Let 'em say what he want, I'll make him fold
Keep that thang tucked
Keep the people I hate close
We gon' chop his body up and leave him in the cold
This shit don't get old
Bleed that bitch, bleed that bitch, same color as rose (This is a cult murder)
Same color my pole
I be wit' my hoe
I know he don't tote
We done caught him lacking
We gon' catch him at the store



Credits
Writer(s): Izzy Z
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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