Go Crazy, Pt. 1
Ayy, everybody been steady askin' me like
Iish, where that shit at
I told them it's on the way, though
Yeah, rather be the nigga shootin' than gettin bust at
This new Glock a Gen 5, when I up it, they like, what's that
Let my gun talk for me, don't get fussed at
This bitch make you calm down like little kids gettin' cussed at
Bitches know that I'm the shit and you can't flush it
Call my 9-MC Hammer, cause it dance when I touch it
All these bands, nigga, I don't need no friends
They be suspect, I ain't playin', they say, Issue calm down
I'm like, fuck that
Yeah, broski slidin with me, know he ridin' with me
Iron with me, try to run, shot in your back, you dyin
Ricky, this bitch all on only fans
She ain't got a man, I'm with Johnny
Hoe dont hit my line unless you got a friend
Ooh-wee, I'm hot as hell, bitch, I need a fan
I'm the man and I'm fly as hell like I'm Peter Pan
No Givenchy, just some plain jeans and a white tee
Franchise boys, oh, I, oh, I, oh, I think they like
Gucci Mane 1017, cause I'm so motherfuckin' icy
All these ones I done bought, I need a sponsoring by Nike
All these guns, we done bought, I can care less about who like me
Me and bro was on ah hit' and is you rollin', bitch, I might be
I seen niggas spent a bin and it wasnt nobody around
Now we swervin' all in traffic in ah steamer' round the town
If the 12s get behind us, lil' bro, gettin us out that jam
And I kick bitches out my crib like I'm Martin and they Pam, nigga
Iish, where that shit at
I told them it's on the way, though
Yeah, rather be the nigga shootin' than gettin bust at
This new Glock a Gen 5, when I up it, they like, what's that
Let my gun talk for me, don't get fussed at
This bitch make you calm down like little kids gettin' cussed at
Bitches know that I'm the shit and you can't flush it
Call my 9-MC Hammer, cause it dance when I touch it
All these bands, nigga, I don't need no friends
They be suspect, I ain't playin', they say, Issue calm down
I'm like, fuck that
Yeah, broski slidin with me, know he ridin' with me
Iron with me, try to run, shot in your back, you dyin
Ricky, this bitch all on only fans
She ain't got a man, I'm with Johnny
Hoe dont hit my line unless you got a friend
Ooh-wee, I'm hot as hell, bitch, I need a fan
I'm the man and I'm fly as hell like I'm Peter Pan
No Givenchy, just some plain jeans and a white tee
Franchise boys, oh, I, oh, I, oh, I think they like
Gucci Mane 1017, cause I'm so motherfuckin' icy
All these ones I done bought, I need a sponsoring by Nike
All these guns, we done bought, I can care less about who like me
Me and bro was on ah hit' and is you rollin', bitch, I might be
I seen niggas spent a bin and it wasnt nobody around
Now we swervin' all in traffic in ah steamer' round the town
If the 12s get behind us, lil' bro, gettin us out that jam
And I kick bitches out my crib like I'm Martin and they Pam, nigga
Credits
Writer(s): Richard Woods
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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