The People Under The Stairs

I'm mobbing with the camp some models that could dance
Bartender tell them bitches bring my bottles in advance
You ever try to play with my son you out of chance
I'm a baller but I play with my gun like ja morant
I'm back on my grizzly a lot of bitches miss me
I'm springz they know i'm a king like Doug Christie
You could take nine shots or you could take fifty
Both will send your body to god with no Whitney
No witness they gon' need forensics
And this red dot on your head no pinterest
Team full of shooters got Steve Kerrs and pippens
Put this fucking nine on your back Jordan olympics
Kicks never come out and my niggas dumb out
People under the stairs you snitch cut your tongue out
Hospital visit they gon' have to pull a lung out
And i'm on the grind sun down till the sun out

I ain't gon' hold you nigga i'm back facts
And I don't got time to play with you rap cats
The mac clap pump fakers y'all act strapped
And get a hole in the back of your head like snap backs
The way I leveled up man it so ain't fair
I made a killing cuz of that white like the cocaine bear
I met a new connect that nigga prices was valid
White girl stashed in the house ain't talking bout Alice
I been getting money you niggas never was there
My trap got the fiends like people under the stairs
Everybody tough now cuz you got a gun cool
But when my gun cock back you better run fool
My aim good when i'm blasting the toast
Send ball heads through your wall like casper the ghost
Nigga I get mad and start doing the most
Ill cut ya fucking tongue out have resembling roach



Credits
Writer(s): Curtis Little
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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