Lyrics

(Yo, Nick Papz make it slap) (brr) Anybody go against the gang is real bad karma with them choppers You dig? (Chasers) Whoa, uh Niggas know who run the city, I'm like, "Yeah, yeah" Gave my sister platinum Amex card, was just on welfare My dawg had asked me to bring the AR out, and I'm like, "Hell yeah" Y'all only be poppin' out at the club 'cause y'all know 12 there Still step on you like twelve stairs (let's get it), I can't take no more Catch a rapper and snatch him out his jewels 'cause I can't fake no more Ridin' with some shit, R-C-O-D, can't even play no more You swing on me, my dawg attack That switch hit, it don't spray no more, he emptied that I'm from Philly, backdoor, we get into that I would really whack you 'bout that shit you said on the internet Richard Millie, right there in the trenches where we sinnin' at He tried cut through the alley and got smoked right where the fence is at They don't know where my mental at (they don't) I think niggas think it's sweet 'cause I've been givin' back Call Cuzzo, "Take them rentals back" Yeah, where them niggas that been poppin' all that big boy shit? Brand-new AP on my wrist, know that's a big boy brick Hundred rounds from out that chopper, this a big boy stick, yeah (big boy stick) Who wanna go to war? Show way too much love to all these niggas, I can't even show no more Put this bitch on 17 PJs, that ain't your ho no more Send the blitz, them killers come with that switch So they can't blow no more Brr, blow it, yeah Lately, I been like, "fuck niggas" (for what?) 'Cause I don't trust niggas Cut 'em off, I don't fuck with 'em, must be a fuck nigga Big Phantom in the trenches, feel like a truck, nigga I can fuck for free, but I give her ratchet 'cause I fuck with her Million dollar jewelry, I rock Louis with my dance with it She act like a groupie, I get stupid on her, won't hit it I fear no nigga, I'm here, four killers No tellin' how I'm comin', it might be Cullinan or a four-wheeler She ain't tellin' that we fuckin' 'cause she can tell that I got more bitches More Glocks, more switches, trappin' off of Forbes lists Yeah, and these niggas don't want no war with us Posted up in the trench, I got that chop' right by the store with us I get to lockin' in like I went broke when I need more millions More money, more killers, shit just make me more vicious I flew her out on a one-way, ain't been back 'cause she on tour with us Yeah, where them niggas that been poppin' all that big boy shit? Brand-new AP on my wrist, know that's a big boy brick Hundred rounds from out that chopper, this a big boy stick, yeah (big boy stick) Who wanna go to war? Show way too much love to all these niggas, I can't even show no more Put this bitch on 17 PJs, that ain't your ho no more Send the blitz, them killers come with that switch So they can't blow no more Brr, blow it, yeah
Writer(s): Robert Rihmeek Williams, Jordan Holt-may, Nikolas J Papamitrou, Nii Noi Tetteh, Jabreh Deshon Shaw, Ali Bamshad, Jackson Paul Lomastro, Armon Alaghband Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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