Bird Flu (Remix)

Lor Scoota DJ Manny We in this bitch Choo! I think I got the bird flu I'm tired of selling packs I think I need a bird or twoWe selling scrabble, coke, and smackKeep them junkies coming back We selling scrabble, coke, and smack The dope so good, I let the junky hit it once he damn near had a heart attack If you cop from me I guarantee you coming right back We got that real morphine, you niggas using percocet I'm in the trap counting stacks On point like a tat Selling dope out the house Blowing smoke out my mouth Got the ratchet on deck The forty right under the couch These niggas say they selling drugs but they just like to run they mouth He ain't ever sold a drug and he ain't ever caught a charge All that faking that he doing, they need to charge his ass with fraud Talking about you seen fifty grams nigga yeah alright Only thing you sold was nickel bags of ratchet for your aunt I don't even like to brag, but sometimes I flaunt Hit the kitty grab 500 just to stunt I'm gonna spend at least 40 50 dollars on blunts I ain't stingy, drug money, it's gonna buy you what you want I got the raw, real raw, I give it to them raw In them twenty twenty bags, coke inside the jar Let the fiend taste the coke, he said he couldn't feel his jaw I called the plug and told him thumbs up, good job! Right back on the block I'm selling drugs like it's a job Junkies walking around the block, I got them lined up on the wall Them dope crowds look like after school at mondawmin mall I got a hundred pills on me, on my way to hit this mark I'm gonna keep on selling drugs, fuck a distribution law I'm plugged in with all the plugs, they know I'm a trap star Make something out of nothing, turn an ounce into a car And if you fucking with that money I'm gonna have to take you on You already know what's up, shout out to my G street niggas, let's get it Shout out to the F fifteen hundred RNT twenty eight hundred