Church

Like, what?
Like, grrah, grrah, ah

If you scared, go to church
Grab a gun, put in work
Can't speak about shh, that boy up on a shirt
Niggas put his ass up in the dirt
We gone hit them where it hurt
Ain't takin' no tag, bitch, I'm boomin' it first
Off a Perc', masked up, tryna lurk
Adrenaline rushing, tryna go berserk

Like, get up on it you better not miss
Back up the chop and then empty the clip
Like, if he run, then he better not slip
Cuz' I put that on bro that that's gon' be a hit
That's gon' be a new opp in the spliff
When I step in the party, knocka' on my hip
YGK, niggas never did shit
LVK, Spot a ten then it's lit

Off the yellow, I get sturdy
Spot an opp, then we gon' do 'em dirty
Whole lot of chops around, we never worried
Niggas ain't Makk, they ballin' with no jersey
On the 5, I'm posted up with a thirty
So how you thinkin' you gon' hurt me?
We the demons, we ain't showin' mercy
And we ain't stoppin' 'til a nigga buried

Step back, right leg, then kick
Left leg, kick, right leg
Then spin
Plus he ballin' out, don't need a gym
Hop out, send shots, we tryna catch a win
Niggas runnin', ducking when we bend
Opps know it get nasty every time we spin
Take a trip, now it's time to go sin
He with his mans, he get hit with his friend

Flocks on top, MB, DOA
Get the drop from a thot, now we spinning all day
Know a few opps that got hit in broad day
I ain't never do bad, what the fuck y'all gon' say?
Hollow tips hit him and open his face
With the dummy, go dummy, tryna up and spray
All my niggas got chops on they waist
Think you blitzing on us, then you made a mistake

Off a twenty, I I'm like who that
They threw a lil' shot until we threw back
Rayy Balla with me, so that's two straps
Last nigga ducked and got his boo clapped
We the Makks in the 50s, we too tac
And this forty done flocked at a few hats
When you see me up, you better move back
I'm tryna turn a nigga to a new pack

I won't miss when I spin
Flock out the whip, it won't come once again
Tried to run, he got hit in his shit
I can't go out like shh, no I'm in my own whip
Smoking cab, that nigga did bad
Smoke on JB, now he dead in the past
Too official, I could never lack
Do twelve in the shoe, tryna catch me a hat

Like tweak if she throwin' it back
TEC on my waist, so I told her relax
But she fiendin', she shakin' her ass
Tryna take off her clothes 'cause she know I'm the Makk
Get back, we heavy on that
Sit back gang, the opps never get back
We don't play, we don't cap
I spot me an opp, he get turned to a pack

First shot, that boy was with God
Second shot took that boy right off the map
Dead opps, they all in the pack
Don't know who to choose, I'm like Rah Rah or Mex
Fuck that, roll Lilah and Matt
So many dead's, now let's talk on the facts
We ain't hidin', they know where we at
Come through this block once, you won't make it back

Spin through with the chop
He tried to run, but the nigga got shot
Bad bitch sent the drop
Watch how we pull up and clear out the spot
All I need is a glock with ten shots
Like five niggas ran when I back out the knock
Better run 'cause every opp shot
If you trip then you done, you get beat with the Glock
Then shot

We been buggin' and boomin', the reason they won't come outside
We slide, they hide
I'm tryna put me a shh in the sky
Go shh, I'm fried
Linkin' with opps and they all finna die
On the 5 with the Watts
Spot us an opp, then that boy gettin' dropped

Grrah, grrah-grrah-boom
Every opp shot, ah
Ah, MB-MB
Like what, like grrah



Credits
Writer(s): Treyvon Jackson, Bennie Briggman, Michael Briggman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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