Walk Up To Your House

Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at your skull
Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't-I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at your skull
Smoked out, loced out, ridin' with the pistol grip
I don't love hoes, mane, I'm aimin' at your skull

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off
Bitch I got a sawed off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off
Bitch I got a sawed off

Late, last night, lyin' in the bed, eyes red
Thinkin' should I get these ho's
Thinkin' should I cut they head
Should a nigga plan a hit, or grab my pistol grip

And take care my business, 'cause they don't who they fuckin' with
Call my nigga Project Pat, 'cause I know he got my back
Fuck writin' rhymes, this is real shit, not a track
Camouflage in the dark for the ones who act hard

The Devil on my left side, the other side I'm seein' God
Why do niggas talk shit? Niggas can't stick together
Seein' a nigga get killed, will make a nigga feel better
So, I just walk in a pace, thinkin' of the case of mothafuckas
Who trait pistol to your fuckin' face

This ain't no game, nigga, my finger's on the trigger
The time is runnin' out, my conscience sayin' I gotta get him
Is there a way, that a nigga can escape from Hell?
I fucked him up with the Mossberg buck shells, bitch

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off
Bitch I got a sawed off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off
Bitch I got a sawed off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off
Bitch I got a sawed off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop-drop, drop it off, drop it off
Bitch I got a sawed off

Mossberg is all he heard after the doorbell rang
Buck shots to the brain, Triple 6 style, mane
This antibiotic's for any nigga sick about my six-double-six
An automatic w'izz'ig spl'izz'it

We mothafuckin' thick
My niggas in Fowler Homes down
S.P.V., Cleaborn Homes, Watkins & Brown, Queensmound
Trigg & Lauderdale, Lakeview G's, and them Texas Court G's

The riverside G-A-N-G-S-T-A
Niggas down with the Triple Six Mafia
Let's ride, Smoked Out, Loced Out with a fat .45 on the seat
'Bout to make a sucker nigga eat the barrel when I stick it in his mouth

Give me cheese, say your ABC's
Kind of hard to do, when my pistol's in your grill
Mouth full of gold teeth, smile for the kill

I'm telling you sucker ass niggas for the last time
Don't run your mouth
The Triple Six Mafia niggas will blow your ass off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop-drop, drop it off, drop it off
Bitch I got a sawed off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off
Bitch-bitch-bitch, I got a sawed off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop it-drop it off, drop it off
Bitch, I got a sawed off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off
Bitch, I got a sawed off

Walk up to your house, knock on your door and blow your ass off
Drop it off, drop it off
Bitch, I got a sawed off



Credits
Writer(s): Jordan Houston, Paul Duane Beauregard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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