Purge On Em

Eh-oh, whoa-whoa, brrt
Nigga know what goin' on, NLE, Top Shotta (mmm)
Bomb like Al-Qaeda, brrt, Don Dada, eh-eh, whoa-whoa
Ayy, ayy, ayy (spazzin' out, Pluto)

Ayy, bitch, I thug with the gang, it's the same when I'm out
If that boy not the same, then we bangin' it out
If you come in my house, there's a Glock every couch (brrt-brrt)
Told the bitch he can't hang, so we lettin' him out, we do drills out this car, we be uppin' the count
Put that cash on his head (brrt), it look like advance money, so my niggas, they want that amount (ayy)
Off of these meds, I move like damn junkie, all this pain that I got, I dissolve it

We do the offin' and y'all do the talkin', take a look at this scope, up one, we chalk it (brrt)
Threw me a body, damn right, we caught it, we ain't gon' stop 'til the gang in a coffin
New Drac', just bought it, all black with some Jordans
Your soul, we want it, that's what we robbin' for

Find a location, we pull up and face 'em, the jewelry, I take it, we need all of that
Skrrt to the block and I post with a .50, they know how I'm comin', they know where I'm at
All black attire, I cover my tats and if I see an opp, I'ma slam like Shaq
Last nigga play with the gang, swear to God we left that boy limb detached

Bad bitch hit my phone, say I'm doin' her wrong, but I keep doin' her wrong
Mama tell me not to leave the house without my chrome, I live in a war zone
The opp pack that I'm smokin' on too strong, it got my wig gone
Opps chillin' in the house, they quarantinin', slide on 'em and purge on 'em

(Prr-prr-prr-prr) ayy, only sit with bosses at the tables, I don't talk to the haters
Show a nigga what's a lion from a gator, I'ma leave him dry when I bait him
Bullets gon' hit, we ain't never gonna graze him
Fuck with your folks, but your mama can't save 'em

Thug to the bone, been this way since the cradle (ayy)
I'ma tote it to the grave, and it's somethin' that I stand on (ayy, ayy)
Fuck an opp bitch, screamin', "Crip" with my flag on
I'ma get your man's killed, have your nigga makin' sad songs

I send a hit of the flip, I might throw away the iPhone
I'ma up off the rip, if he look, then his eye gone
Let that bitch keep on talkin', he type on, catch that bitch out in traffic, that pipe on him (brrt-brrt)
Yeah, we clutch automatics, we might harm, better approach with caution, I got a warrant (ayy, ayy, ayy)

Slid on the opps we hit two in a row, and I'm lettin' off shots when he open the door
Niggas be duckin' and hidin' and sendin' subliminals, really we all know the score
Draco bullets ripped him up and clipped him up, slipped him up like he walkin' on soap
Niggas know I keep it tucked, might stick 'em up, I can't get it caught without on me

Find a location, we pull up and face 'em, the jewelry, I take it, we need all of that
Skrrt to the block and I post with a .50, they know how I'm comin', they know where I'm at
All black attire, I cover my tats and if I see an opp, I'ma slam like Shaq
Last nigga play with the gang, swear to God we left that boy limb detached

Bad bitch hit my phone, say I'm doin' her wrong, but I keep doin' her wrong
Mama tell me not to leave the house without my chrome, I live in a war zone
The opp pack that I'm smokin' on too strong, it got my wig gone
Opps chillin' in the house, they quarantinin', slide on 'em and purge on 'em

Brrt, slide on 'em and purge on 'em
NLE the top shotta, got the bomb like Al-Qaeda, mmm, Don Dada
Got the bomb like Al-Qaeda, know we runnin' with robbers
Got the bomb like Al-Qaeda (only sit with bosses at the tables, I don't talk to the haters)