Freestyle

Laykx (Ayy) Redboi shit, you know what the fuck going on, man Ayy, 2020 takeover, man, you know what the fuck going on Y'all niggas be squealing to the Jakes, let's do it Off of the Wock' in a coma, we in a Rover Four in the back with the toaster Meiro, he gripping that 30 We slapping the stick and you do what we say, no controller I'm coming over to fuck You coming over, she tell you she want you to hold her My niggas love to get over You got the racks and my niggas pull up like a chauffeur I'ma go get me a Bentley, BB on the buckle Or maybe just throw on the Fеndi Niggas, they filled up with envy If you got a problеm, it's fifty rounds up in this semi Who wanna tweak? (tweak) I'll even call sis, and this be your last night like you Diddy It can get tricky When bullets start flying, you better get down or get with me LV be giving me powers, dust off the belt These some jiggas got me up for hours I just might drop me a xanny (xanny) Let it dissolve, that shit kinda taste a lil' sour (sour) I'm high, I'm up with the towers Think that's your bitch? Well, nigga, I think that it's ours 30 clip, shoot us a movie Talk on the net, but ain't show nigga you was a coward Two fake accounts getting busy (busy) Go and load up at the bank Yeah, my niggas stay with me (they with me) Love to them bitches be bustin' (they bustin') Two for the twenty, but I don't know, you seeming iffy I'ma have K2 go zoo him for all of his racks I'm the man, so I'm thinking I'm fifty Trust me, my niggas get sitchy Got me a navy, so I got a glock with a switchy Coupe switching (skrrt) Where I leave my cup, I think my act missing Probably left it right next to my wock Man, I be Yac sipping Run off with the pack and, bitch, it's Fuck you, I be pack flipping (fuck you) All your racks missing (ayy) K2 wiped them off, we ain't splitting Reckless in the building Everybody stop and stare (they stop and stare) All this money, now your bitch all under me like underwear (underwear) All these fake ass fucking rappers, time to pull a fucking chair Like y'all ain't living what y'all rapping Y'all don't even fucking care Since a shorty, we been trapping We ain't have no shit to wear (to wear) Now it's Gucci on my collar, but it's hate all in the air Like when you make it out the mud You got no choice, you gotta share Y'all weren't with me from the jump Y'all said my music wasn't clear (bitch) Groupie bitch, she hit my phone And she get blue when I don't answer (thot) Yeah, I tote the SIG, you want some smoke, we give you cancer Exotic bowls from Carlos, only smoke exotic dancers Your bitch, we ran her Kicked her out, we got no manners Late nights we was posted We was loaded with them 40 cals (40s) We got forty down, we give no zip if four gon' blow him down Copping, chasing sacks since we was jits No, he ain't stopping now With Moe, he in the back He brought the Xannies, now I'm slowing down Bitch, I'm Balenci' stepping, uh And I still tote my weapon (ayy) We got bullets, send you to the master in less than a second Pull up on his block and make him freeze We got that nigga guessing Cocking back, lil' bro, he get to sweating Give his ass eleven Trackhawk get to shredding (skrrt) Niggas solid, they ain't never telling (never) I can't get a timeout from the money, I ain't never resting Eazzyy, where you heading? (huh?) To the top while all you niggas flexing I don't do the texting If it's beef, I hope you catch a blessing, ayy