Conversations With the Reapah
Mira, QAT man
I tried to tell em that I'm not the one
Bitch get your issues
All my niggas out they mind
I swear to god I run with killers
Having conversations with the reaper
Yeah that be my center
That nigga know I'm too official
Go cop a pound from the dope dealer
Shoot all the time with some real niggas
Smush that boy with this big pillow
Now mama telling me to chill
Can't get no rep off no bitch niggas
Boy can feel just how he want his hoe
He telling me I'm realer
Yeah we really in the field
Tell her off we got them pictures
Tell them niggas we go zip em
Them bitches know this shit get real
Drop all that dissing on your story
Go get you a kill
I'm trying to burn a nigga
They ain't feeling how I feel
Ain't speak up on them cases
Say lit brother they ain't sealed
Pull up to your mama house
Like what the fuck you on
Say lit nigga I got the drop
Better stop moving on
Whole lot of niggas on my trail
I know they want me gone
Well tell a pussy come and try
And I'ma send em home
I miss my brother he locked up
I know he feel alone
But say nigga you know we thuggin
When you coming home
I tell my devil for to hit him
Cause he want my dome
No we don't post on social sites
No we don't talk on phone
She know yeah that's my lit devil
He running in your home
Wish my lit brother was right here
Man he been gone too long
We got a plan to kill em
Bitches with this fucking chrome
Another plan to get a deal
And put our pen below
I try to tell em that I'm not the one
Bitch get your issues
All my niggas out they mind
I swear to god I run with killers
Having conversations with the reaper
Yeah that be my center
That nigga know I'm too official
Don't cop a pound from the dope dealer
Shoot all the time with some real niggas
Smush that boy with this big pistol
My mama telling me to chill
Can't get no rep off no bitch nigga
Walker feels this high he wrong
His ho be telling me I'm real
Yeah we really in the field
Tell her off we got some pilchers
Bitch I hop out like this chopper saying
All I see is red
Always thinking bout lit beat up memories
Floating through my head
I don't want beef with you lit niggas
But I know y'all want me dead
So I'ma bust your fucking head
And paste you right inside your bed
I'm really thuggin bitch like yeah
You clutching pistols ducking fence
I wanna take off all this dread
Get the real me bitch why you scared
You told me meet you up in centerville
What the fuck bitch you a fag
Don't let me see that charger
Bitch I'ma fill it up with lead
I try to tell em that I'm not the one
Bitch get your issues
All my niggas off they mind
I swear to god I run with killers
I'm having conversations with the reaper
Yeah that be my center
Nigga know I'm too official
Go cop a pound from the dope dealer
Shoot all the time with some real niggas
Smush that boy with this big pistol
My mama telling me to chill
Can't get no rep off no bitch nigga
Walker feels this high he wrong
His ho be telling me I'm real
Yeah we really in the field
Tell her off we got them pictures
I tried to tell em that I'm not the one
Bitch get your issues
All my niggas out they mind
I swear to god I run with killers
Having conversations with the reaper
Yeah that be my center
That nigga know I'm too official
Go cop a pound from the dope dealer
Shoot all the time with some real niggas
Smush that boy with this big pillow
Now mama telling me to chill
Can't get no rep off no bitch niggas
Boy can feel just how he want his hoe
He telling me I'm realer
Yeah we really in the field
Tell her off we got them pictures
Tell them niggas we go zip em
Them bitches know this shit get real
Drop all that dissing on your story
Go get you a kill
I'm trying to burn a nigga
They ain't feeling how I feel
Ain't speak up on them cases
Say lit brother they ain't sealed
Pull up to your mama house
Like what the fuck you on
Say lit nigga I got the drop
Better stop moving on
Whole lot of niggas on my trail
I know they want me gone
Well tell a pussy come and try
And I'ma send em home
I miss my brother he locked up
I know he feel alone
But say nigga you know we thuggin
When you coming home
I tell my devil for to hit him
Cause he want my dome
No we don't post on social sites
No we don't talk on phone
She know yeah that's my lit devil
He running in your home
Wish my lit brother was right here
Man he been gone too long
We got a plan to kill em
Bitches with this fucking chrome
Another plan to get a deal
And put our pen below
I try to tell em that I'm not the one
Bitch get your issues
All my niggas out they mind
I swear to god I run with killers
Having conversations with the reaper
Yeah that be my center
That nigga know I'm too official
Don't cop a pound from the dope dealer
Shoot all the time with some real niggas
Smush that boy with this big pistol
My mama telling me to chill
Can't get no rep off no bitch nigga
Walker feels this high he wrong
His ho be telling me I'm real
Yeah we really in the field
Tell her off we got some pilchers
Bitch I hop out like this chopper saying
All I see is red
Always thinking bout lit beat up memories
Floating through my head
I don't want beef with you lit niggas
But I know y'all want me dead
So I'ma bust your fucking head
And paste you right inside your bed
I'm really thuggin bitch like yeah
You clutching pistols ducking fence
I wanna take off all this dread
Get the real me bitch why you scared
You told me meet you up in centerville
What the fuck bitch you a fag
Don't let me see that charger
Bitch I'ma fill it up with lead
I try to tell em that I'm not the one
Bitch get your issues
All my niggas off they mind
I swear to god I run with killers
I'm having conversations with the reaper
Yeah that be my center
Nigga know I'm too official
Go cop a pound from the dope dealer
Shoot all the time with some real niggas
Smush that boy with this big pistol
My mama telling me to chill
Can't get no rep off no bitch nigga
Walker feels this high he wrong
His ho be telling me I'm real
Yeah we really in the field
Tell her off we got them pictures
Credits
Writer(s): Raq Youngin Raq Youngin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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