Kill Shit
Time to let these niggas know what it is in the streets
Aye Bibby, let's kill shit broski. Whatchu wanna do?
It's whatever man, just go on ahead and rip that shit
Ima come around and clean that shit up
Lets get it
Know a couple niggas that's down to ride for a homicide
When it's drama time
Run up on a nigga with the llamas flyin
Leave his loved ones all traumatized
One-fifty I'm really wit' it
I'll drop his ass and then forget it
I'm the man round my side of town
Might see a bitch and forget I hit it
Lil Bibby on the track with me
One mistake and he clap fifty
When I hit the scene hoes go insane
Cause they know a nigga got them racks wit' me
No velcro but the strap wit' me
Let a nigga wanna act silly
I'mma let it off and then leave him there
Ride off and don't even care
Bitch I cash out 'till I pass out
Got a couple trues I don't even wear
In the game bitch I do my thang
Hoes scream my name I ain't even there
Lil Herb boy I does this
Leave your bitch wetter than a pool pit
And I make bands like I make friends
Bought some ray-bans on some cool shit
But now it's back to some killa shit
Got some wild hoes that'll drill a bitch
Yea it's no limit, thirty years runnin'
Thirty years gunnin' and we still the shit
I never run cause I stay to fight
I'll cook a nigga like steak and rice
And it's hella real in the battlefield
Gangbang gotta pay the price
Hit a nigga with the forty fifth
Bet it make his ass do forty flips
M-O-B I don't love a ho
Imma be this way 'til I'm forty six
Matter of fact 'til a nigga die
Smoke kush blunts 'til a nigga cry
And I never feed off another man
Cause I understand how a nigga lie
Never snitch on a nigga dry
Yeah that's how a nigga die
Got a yellow bitch in the passenger
She gon' suck and fuck if I get her high
If I do the dash then my whip will fly
Foreign shit what a nigga ride
I ain't never snoozin' let a nigga try
Got the nine ruger on a nigga side
Lil Bibby, no limit yea I'm all about that sack bitch
My young niggas they clap shit
Let the mac spit, we whack shit
Weezy in that cut
With that nina that's that black bitch
Rico wanna' get 'em, I'm like cuz' man I got this
Shootin' shit, Hittin' shit
Four five extended clip, y'all be on that snitchin' shit
And Y'all know what snitches get, No limit shit
We wit' the shits, I'm focused on gettin' rich
M-O-B forget a bitch, right after I hit the bitch
Like point me to the kitchen bitch, I be water whippin' shit
Whip it, Jeff Gordon whip it, hit it wit' the fork
Straight drop no shorts
Shooters on and off the court, shoot a nigga off his porch
Turn a nigga to a corpse, yeah, I'm bout that
Rollin' up that loud pack
Catch me lackin'? I doubt that, cause I never leave without that
And that's real shit, got real hitters they kill shit
You fuck around hit the kill switch, these hollow tips you feel this
And I'm tryna get real rich
Cause my mama said I wouldn't be shit
Nobody never gave me shit
Like "Bibby hop on this remix", that's five hundred, no free shit
Cause I'm hot and I do this shit for my block
I got thirty off in that Glock, have my nina give you top
Bodies gon' drop and we ain't gon' stop
R-I-P Roc
Catch a few ops, send a few shots, might hit a few blocks
Fuck a few thots, I need two mill might seem like a lot
But I spit straight drop so its really not
My team gon' eat, R-I-P to police
Fake niggas don't speak
Cop killers in the heat, catch me in the streets
Shout out to broski
Aye Bibby, let's kill shit broski. Whatchu wanna do?
It's whatever man, just go on ahead and rip that shit
Ima come around and clean that shit up
Lets get it
Know a couple niggas that's down to ride for a homicide
When it's drama time
Run up on a nigga with the llamas flyin
Leave his loved ones all traumatized
One-fifty I'm really wit' it
I'll drop his ass and then forget it
I'm the man round my side of town
Might see a bitch and forget I hit it
Lil Bibby on the track with me
One mistake and he clap fifty
When I hit the scene hoes go insane
Cause they know a nigga got them racks wit' me
No velcro but the strap wit' me
Let a nigga wanna act silly
I'mma let it off and then leave him there
Ride off and don't even care
Bitch I cash out 'till I pass out
Got a couple trues I don't even wear
In the game bitch I do my thang
Hoes scream my name I ain't even there
Lil Herb boy I does this
Leave your bitch wetter than a pool pit
And I make bands like I make friends
Bought some ray-bans on some cool shit
But now it's back to some killa shit
Got some wild hoes that'll drill a bitch
Yea it's no limit, thirty years runnin'
Thirty years gunnin' and we still the shit
I never run cause I stay to fight
I'll cook a nigga like steak and rice
And it's hella real in the battlefield
Gangbang gotta pay the price
Hit a nigga with the forty fifth
Bet it make his ass do forty flips
M-O-B I don't love a ho
Imma be this way 'til I'm forty six
Matter of fact 'til a nigga die
Smoke kush blunts 'til a nigga cry
And I never feed off another man
Cause I understand how a nigga lie
Never snitch on a nigga dry
Yeah that's how a nigga die
Got a yellow bitch in the passenger
She gon' suck and fuck if I get her high
If I do the dash then my whip will fly
Foreign shit what a nigga ride
I ain't never snoozin' let a nigga try
Got the nine ruger on a nigga side
Lil Bibby, no limit yea I'm all about that sack bitch
My young niggas they clap shit
Let the mac spit, we whack shit
Weezy in that cut
With that nina that's that black bitch
Rico wanna' get 'em, I'm like cuz' man I got this
Shootin' shit, Hittin' shit
Four five extended clip, y'all be on that snitchin' shit
And Y'all know what snitches get, No limit shit
We wit' the shits, I'm focused on gettin' rich
M-O-B forget a bitch, right after I hit the bitch
Like point me to the kitchen bitch, I be water whippin' shit
Whip it, Jeff Gordon whip it, hit it wit' the fork
Straight drop no shorts
Shooters on and off the court, shoot a nigga off his porch
Turn a nigga to a corpse, yeah, I'm bout that
Rollin' up that loud pack
Catch me lackin'? I doubt that, cause I never leave without that
And that's real shit, got real hitters they kill shit
You fuck around hit the kill switch, these hollow tips you feel this
And I'm tryna get real rich
Cause my mama said I wouldn't be shit
Nobody never gave me shit
Like "Bibby hop on this remix", that's five hundred, no free shit
Cause I'm hot and I do this shit for my block
I got thirty off in that Glock, have my nina give you top
Bodies gon' drop and we ain't gon' stop
R-I-P Roc
Catch a few ops, send a few shots, might hit a few blocks
Fuck a few thots, I need two mill might seem like a lot
But I spit straight drop so its really not
My team gon' eat, R-I-P to police
Fake niggas don't speak
Cop killers in the heat, catch me in the streets
Shout out to broski
Credits
Writer(s): Herbert Randall Wright, London Buckner, Brandon Dickerson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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