Vo Flow

Ay, ay, ay
In the 392, how you say you not fuckin' got on daisy dukes
I ain't no regular rapper, these bullets will tack
So get out the way when I shoot
I don't play with my food
If I call ABP, better know he gon' do what it do
Says his ass wanna be famous, got hit with a banger
Now his whole face on the news

Can't be nice, I like my bitches rude
Bet this Glock make him change up his mood
I can't give you no money, you bitches be funny
You better go back to your dude
He play gangsta and think that it's cool
Give her dick, now she screaming out, "Ooh!"
I might pull out the camera, we going banana
She giving me brain like the school

When we done, tell the lil' hoe to get on
F.A.L. and we don't need to put on
And you live for the media
I don't really post 'cause they like how I put that shit on
On the run, gotta get me a flip phone
You ain't bigger than me on you tiptoes
I ain't shooting in the crowd where the walker's at down
When I whoop, you a' better get low

Need a bank, I'ma buy you a mid
Designer drill, we stay hands shit up and just say
So he a problem, I'm testing
We slidin' through duper three guns, Ed, Edd and Eddie

I got the salt like some dressing
He wound up smokin', now he in the box like a session
Windin' it up by a wrist
I blow a wood to the face 'cause it keeps me from stress
You niggas steppin', we stompin'
My bitch she buy like a horn but get air like a pumpkin
No donors but we really dunkin'
I'm the big man in the pain, I can play like I'm Don King

If you ain't suckin', I ain't comin'
Keep me a stick like I play for the band, I ain't drumming
I burn my fingers from the thumbin'
We was just broke and Tre Loaded made somethin' outta nothin'

In the 392
How you say you're not fucking got on daisy dukes
I ain't no regular rapper, these bullets will tack
So get out the way when I shoot
I don't play with my food
If I call ABP, better know he gon' do what it do
Says his ass wanna be famous, got hit with a banger
And now his whole face on the news

Baby, come fuck with a cheater, I know you beater
I ain't talking Chris Brown how I beat her
I'm hot, but I don't got a fever
I did this shit on my own, you gonna follow the leader
Dope got me higher than pita
If you get put in that room, you gonna fold like fajitas
Touchdown, I don't play no receiver
And if you up, better shoot, cut him up like a pizza

Ay, pour a deuce in the Faygo
I got some hittas who go when I say so
They had no cheese, had to switch up the payroll
And I be stretching these hoes like some PlayDoh
Hit from the back, put my thumb in her A-hole
Know I'm next to fly out to Barbados
With a white John, had to try out the mayo
You can get hit with the Glock or the Draco

Then my folks do the dash
This shit is steaming so we moving fast
Don't call my phone if it ain't 'bout no cash
You not gonna walk nothin' down with no mask
If you seen what I seen, you be ready to crash
Might not be first, but I ain't comin' in last
Whole team win when you learn how to pass
He wanted smoke, had to turn him to ash
Green beam like the whole club, we ready to smash

Ay, and I slide with them youngins, no Rio
We really moving the weight, the whole team got a plate
Can't get caught, if we do, that's a Rico
These bitches really be fake and I can not protect
So I'd rather go fuck on a freak hoe
I stay away from them snakes, and I'm all about cake
I just want you to cheat like a Cheeto

Ay, in the 392
How you say you not fuckin' got on daisy dukes
I ain't no regular rapper, these bullets will tack ya
So get out the way when I shoot
I don't play with my food
If I call ABP, better know he gon' do what it do
Says his ass wanna be famous, got hit with a banger
Now his whole face on the news

Ay, ay, ay
Now his whole face on the news
Ay, ay, ay
We leaving an M in the pool
Ay, ay, ay
Now he dead 'cause he played with the dude
Ay, ay, ay (Loaded Gang, no cap)



Credits
Writer(s): Katreveon Smith, Joseph Fernando, Jeremiah Miller
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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