TALKING SHIT (feat. Nasir Justice)
Chain reactions and amiris
Threw a hollow at his fro he survived he gillie
I'm banging crip my brother blood same colors as the Phillies
Niggas pop it on the gram I swear to god these niggas kill me
I got a drum on the forty and a laser on The nine
I'm doing eighty in the forty I could Never waste no time
I'm banging crip triple ones but I'm Fucking with the slimes
How the fuck you twenty plus and you Only got a chime
My bitch bad she exclusive you can't Touch it if it's mine
Bust the glizzy with the left bullet hit Em in his spine
Fuck the state fuck the feds fuck the Opps fuck they dead's
On my mother I ain't playing hang a Nigga by his dreads
Ain't shooting out of shit we walking Down tapping heads
I don't care if he was cripping we gon Paint that nigga red
Westside 1e11
Bitch that be the gang
They might scream 100k but they ain't Putting in no pain
Hell no I'm not Deebo but I'll take a Nigga chain
Arp lift him up like he flying on a Plane
I'm a stand up nigga I could never Break the code
Drop twenty on a wells I'm in a Different type of mode
And I'm all for breaking bread but this Nigga getting zoed
Niggas bitches on the gang cuz I swear These niggas hoes
We been having our way bitch we getting what we want
It's too many opps dead we can't fit em In this blunt
Got nowhere to store the body's cus The engine in the truck
Every pack smell like a skunk
Bitch it's 60 for the runts
If you scared go get a gun
We be shooting Shìt for fun
Let his body smack the floor
Let him live he with his son
And my bitch know I'm a player
Bring a friend let's have some fun
I ain't worried bout her ex
We ain't the same that boy a bum
Catch a body go on the run
Ain't no music with these drums
Everybody know my name cus I'm a Hot boy
You been playing with your life DONT Get shot boy
And I'll never spend my money on a Thot boy
Switch on the glizz pray this bitch Don't jam
Bitch got talent she go do it with no Hands
I know she got a Nigga
She act like she don't got a man
Damn it's Aigh tho
I don't cuff I one night Hoes
And I ain't fighting for your love
I only fight to get a case closed
We ain't worried bout no opps we Erase those
Told a bitch my diamonds Fiji
When she eat it say it taste gold
I swear to god I ain't worried bout a Nigga
If all his friends dead I'll send the nigga With em
Bet he miss em
I'll bang it at his head with this beam I Ain't missing
If they send me on a job know that I Complete the mission
Ima get em
Threw a hollow at his fro he survived he gillie
I'm banging crip my brother blood same colors as the Phillies
Niggas pop it on the gram I swear to god these niggas kill me
I got a drum on the forty and a laser on The nine
I'm doing eighty in the forty I could Never waste no time
I'm banging crip triple ones but I'm Fucking with the slimes
How the fuck you twenty plus and you Only got a chime
My bitch bad she exclusive you can't Touch it if it's mine
Bust the glizzy with the left bullet hit Em in his spine
Fuck the state fuck the feds fuck the Opps fuck they dead's
On my mother I ain't playing hang a Nigga by his dreads
Ain't shooting out of shit we walking Down tapping heads
I don't care if he was cripping we gon Paint that nigga red
Westside 1e11
Bitch that be the gang
They might scream 100k but they ain't Putting in no pain
Hell no I'm not Deebo but I'll take a Nigga chain
Arp lift him up like he flying on a Plane
I'm a stand up nigga I could never Break the code
Drop twenty on a wells I'm in a Different type of mode
And I'm all for breaking bread but this Nigga getting zoed
Niggas bitches on the gang cuz I swear These niggas hoes
We been having our way bitch we getting what we want
It's too many opps dead we can't fit em In this blunt
Got nowhere to store the body's cus The engine in the truck
Every pack smell like a skunk
Bitch it's 60 for the runts
If you scared go get a gun
We be shooting Shìt for fun
Let his body smack the floor
Let him live he with his son
And my bitch know I'm a player
Bring a friend let's have some fun
I ain't worried bout her ex
We ain't the same that boy a bum
Catch a body go on the run
Ain't no music with these drums
Everybody know my name cus I'm a Hot boy
You been playing with your life DONT Get shot boy
And I'll never spend my money on a Thot boy
Switch on the glizz pray this bitch Don't jam
Bitch got talent she go do it with no Hands
I know she got a Nigga
She act like she don't got a man
Damn it's Aigh tho
I don't cuff I one night Hoes
And I ain't fighting for your love
I only fight to get a case closed
We ain't worried bout no opps we Erase those
Told a bitch my diamonds Fiji
When she eat it say it taste gold
I swear to god I ain't worried bout a Nigga
If all his friends dead I'll send the nigga With em
Bet he miss em
I'll bang it at his head with this beam I Ain't missing
If they send me on a job know that I Complete the mission
Ima get em
Credits
Writer(s): Naseem Caldwell
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.