Shotta Flow 7 (feat. Lil Mabu) - Remix

Yeah, yeah, I jump the gun
The Top Shotta (YGA), bomb like Al-Qaeda
(Had to put a real shooter on this motherfucker) hmm
Finale, finito, uh (gang, gang, YGA, grrah)
Yeah (grrah), yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I was missin' the action like Chrisean tooth (Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up)
Back leg loose like a nigga had to poot
I'm a God in Memphis, who bigger than me? (Who bigger than me?)

Shit that they did, I did at sixteen (sixteen)
He flexin' his money, we know that he broke (know that he broke)
Dick in her mouth, NLE throat coat
He pressed by the girl that fuckin' the city
He tender (he tender), we call him Diddy (let's go)
Choppa so big, knock the weight off Biggie (brr, brr, brr)
I'm somethin' like pussy, this shit it get sticky
Got millionaire mode, I don't plan on glitchin'
I'm back, nigga, like I had an addiction

Dropped him, let's go (ooh)
He couldn't take those, nah
Switches and Dracos, yeah
Shooters on payroll
Nigga don't want no smoke, they Snoop Dogg (Snoop Dogg)
We'll show up at your door like a U-Haul (U-Haul)
Lil' nigga big pistol stand tall (stand tall)
Quick to pop a nigga ass like a Adderall (Adderall)

Shakin' the spot like a ass or somethin' (ass or somethin')
Lil' bruh sped, he crash for nothin' (crash for nothin')
Walk out the house with a mask and gun (mask and gun)
Better hold yo' breath like a asthma pump
Move like the Pope, hundred some shots in the Ghost (brrah)
Better think twice, don't approach (brrt, brrt)
No regular Glocks, know that it came with a box
We steppin' like shoes and socks (brrt, brrt)

One of the realest, how can you not mention?
We slid out the Civic, now Rolls-Royce whippin' (skrrt)
Suckin' and grippin', double jerk and twist it
She killin' my kids like abortion clinics

Shoot him in the tongue, he a slut
Mabu got the last lick, how it feel, bruh? (ha)
Type to put a orange tip on a real gun
I could up a nerf, I bet they still run (you straight)
Mabu took your babe (on god)
You should know, I don't swing that way (nah-uh)
You owe me cash for the fame, I don't owe you no ass, okay?

We'll leave a nigga blue when the face hot
Nigga want the fame, knowin' he had to go to jail the next day?
Pussy boy, you somethin' like my bitch Rose Toy
KKK, got Ks on Ks
Wanna fuck Kim K and make Kanye watch
Mr. Take your bae, YGA (ayy)
I like fun games, shoot a bun like a box

Ayy, squeeze it, pop it, his top, crop it
How you a real nigga beatin' your Barbies?
Kill him, stop it, football prospect
Rather ask Floyd Mayweather come box me
I don't wanna box, I got a stick (baow, baow)
I box your bitch and I bust her the lip (huh)
As a minor (on god) and not the lip with her saliva
Body part rhymes with China (vagina)

You know I had to get behind her (behind her)
Nut in her eyes, gotta blind her (oops, blind her)
No face, no case, reminder (reminder)

Mabu good at the cookout, every hood, every trap house
On this block, we gon' stake out
And I'm givin' out free clout, box em' up like takeout
Let's go, let's go, let's go

I might just O-, fuck that (ayy, fuck that)
Percs killin' slow-, fuck that (say, fuck that)
If I see his hoe fuckin' (come here)
Last Shotta Flow
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, fuck it
Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, brr

He flushin' (fuck it)
Mabu, NLE, we bustin'
Top Shotta, Top Shotta, Top Shotta
Better blow your bitch if you clutchin'
YGA, YGA, NLE
Lil' bruh, he'll spin for nothin' (YGA)
Gave his ass a Perc' 30
God Mabu (gabu)



Credits
Writer(s): Brytavious Lakeith Chambers, Dameon Sean Hughes, Bryson Lashun Potts, Xavier Barrios, Donald Bernard Bailey Jr, Matthew Peter Deluca
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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