Got One

(Skeeo, you crazy)
4KTrey
We put guns to the face
Ain't nobody safe, who gon' die today?
It's a murder business
Four, four
Uh, uh, four, huh, four, four, uh, uh, four
Fuck it up, fuck it up, four
Uh, uh, fuck it up, fuck it up, it's Top, nigga

Had to tell lil' mama "Bag it up", come here, drop that ass on me
We got sticks inside this fuckin' truck
You play, they whack your ass for free
Bro died, I was down for weeks, I was on plenty drugs
Dog hoes talk down on me, but fuck 'em, I got plenty love

From the streets to the cellblock, he got red dot, hollows hot
It get steep, play with pale stuff 'til my arm lock, I scrape the pot
Gangster bitch tryna hold me down, she see I frown and wonder why
Surveillance sit outside my home, tryna take me down, I'm duckin' cops

I'm a thug nigga, fuck you, bitch, I got gravediggers
Run with me, I'll bust you, you bitch
Fuck the campus, I'm at school with that stick
You gon' get bluesed, you get hit
Break all the rules, get 'em fixed
Cutthroat, ain't complyin' with shit

Mama, kill these pussy niggas that's dissin', now, you know I gotta
I'm tryna shoot the hoes that's with 'em 'cause I'm a fuckin' problem
I'm gon' pop somethin', I run with sticks, they all be goblins
I be head huntin', lil' bro just called and said he got one

Had to tell lil' mama, "Bag it up," come here, drop that ass on me
Stacks inside my pants, I got 'em neat, I come up from the streets
Hold on, stop this bitch, I bag 'em up
Shoot first, now come run up on me
I leave out red, I bang that green
Don't diss out peace, best keep your heat

From the streets to the cellblock, he got red dot, hollows hot
It get steep, play with pale stuff 'til my arm lock, I scrape the pot
Gangster bitch tryna hold me down, she see I frown and wonder why
Surveillance sit outside my home, tryna take me down, I'm duckin' cops

Get the drop, we pop an opp
Load up, send my brothers out
We kept plenty sticks at papa house
Before you know, they roll me out
They posted up, we spun around
Lil' bro, let my window down
This K come out, we spray around
Fall, can't shoot back, we leave you found

Top ain't known to fuck around, 4Tre 38 made me
On lock up, guards gon' slam me down
These bitches ain't gon' slave me
On phones, watch what you say to me
Come face to me, they might raid me
Can't leave trace when we sling heat
Still probably at the crib with a .223

Mama, kill these pussy niggas that's dissin', now, you know I gotta
I'm tryna shoot the hoes that's with 'em 'cause I'm a fuckin' problem
I'm gon' pop somethin', I run with sticks, they all be goblins
I be head huntin', lil' bro just called and said he got one
Had to tell lil' mama "Bag it up", come here, drop that ass on me
We got sticks inside this fuckin' truck
You play, they whack your ass for free
Bro died, I was down for weeks, I was on plenty drugs
Dog hoes talk down on me, but fuck 'em, I got plenty love

(Skeeo, you crazy)



Credits
Writer(s): Maurice Jordan, Kentrell Gaulden, Jason Goldberg, Seth Love
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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