FGE (feat. DG & Swaggy Gzz)

Like grrrah, like grrrah
Grrrah, grrrah, FAP
Swag Gzz, Swag Gzz
Swag Gzz, Swag Gzz, Swag Gzz
Grrrah, grrrah

Swag Gzz ima 70 Baby
You already know that I tote 380
Tryna play me
Well I'ma just up it and boom it cuz that's how they raised me

Told Stacey
If a nigga run up
Then I'm shootin Trey 5 like I'm KD

And I'm brushing these niggas too wavy
You already know the we sauce em like gravy
And they hate me
When I'm up in the court Man, I feel like I'm them
They tryna play me

Got a bad lil bitch named Katie
The way that she sucking you know she tryna taste
38 special you know it got no safety
When I dap up my mans I say safety

Like, how's y'all niggas gon' play me
Big Swag Gzz ima FAP Baby
Ayo Red, think it's time
That we get to the green like it's lime
Remember days, we was flippin' them dimes
Now I'm thinkin' it's time that we all about to shine

Nigga I let shit spark
Push up on me I creep through the dark
Niggas be talkin' that shit
Nigga ran up and got hit with this blick
Like, DG make niggas run rick
Niggas on the net, Talkin' that shit

FG, FAP like a blunt we lit,
Fuck 12, we doin' burnouts in the Vic
D.G. that's my blood, you know he with the shits
And Jay got a drum with a beam on a stick
FAP spin the block and the opps runnin rick
I'm totin that 50 like I'm John Wick
And we playin' with cash like we just hit a lick
Swear to God, if I lose one of mine, I'll be sick
Got the grip in the whip
We gon' take a lil' trip round the block
Hit the opp and make him do a flip
Nigga, we let it go, we don't stop till it click
Jah gon' pick up the cash do the dash in the Vic
You ain't FG then stop jackin' our shit
Man the block need a cone all the opps in the spliff
Snapchat, got that boy on the map
Lil' dummy ain't know that we tracked him
In that Zilla black trim with black rims
Ride through the Ave, he ain't know that we passed him
Shootin' flames down the block, make it hot
Then I put on the ski, but D.G. got a black fitted brim
Hop out of the V with the strap, like
Bang, bang
Head tap to the brain, we done capped him
Bang, bang
Grrttt, bow, bow, bow
FGE we gon' put on a show
Bitch you fuck with FG boy you know we gon' throw
Red dirt on the beat, you can't fuck with this flow
Man, I stay with them hitters, they always on go, like
And they know red the heart of the city
Posted on the block countin hunnits and fifties
On a jet doing shows down in Philly
Him and DG boutta sign for a Milly
They might hate me I bet they won't kill me
You better think twice boy FG gon be with me

Nigga I let shit spark
Push up on me I creep through the dark
Niggas be talkin' that shit
Nigga ran up and got hit with this blick
Like, DG make niggas run rick
Niggas on the net, Talkin' that shit



Credits
Writer(s): Dorien Green
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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