Lyrics

Night mare on Elm St this shit Freddy Krueger Shooters with rugers to shoot your medula Blunts like the cigars imported from Cuba Opps they be missing like trips to Bermuda And I told that hoe come back wit my guala Niggas never had no bank no commas Remember your niggas get stained by there partner The next day say the opps done rob us My niggas just really need hope Fix up the hood it just broke We cracking your brain like yolk Laughing but this ain't a joke Tell me who really want smoke I order a call at your door 911 call up never showed No one to save you no more Caught body then you ghost Found the body and its cloaked Ima be on my greedy lil shit Taking the P's not the zips Smoking the runtz no mids Nigga no cap no lid You never believe in me Tainted by snakes in the hood You tell me my shit ain't no good The next day they singing my hook Night mare on Elm St this shit Freddy Krueger Shooters with rugers to shoot your medula Blunts like the cigars imported from Cuba Opps they be missing like trips to Bermuda And I told that hoe come back wit my guala Niggas never had no bank no commas Remember your niggas get stained by there partner The next day say the opps done rob us They look and they jealous I peep their intention We making connection A'int feeling the session Moving little funny Like them TV antennas Protected and vested with All of the weapons We had talk A talk bout work Talking some price don't think it'll work Ill make it more if you look and you smirk Cannot take 2nd you dummy i'm first Show you some products that you never seen Its gon' be stunning you gotta call Steve Got the hood cooking like Chef Boyardee Give me some time to get out the city Niggas where I'm from Don't show you no love Not til you under or come up from above Nigga try shoot me now he playing dumb Never knew mally unload a gun Give her essentials no lease no rentals Police they squeeze delete your mental 22s they shoot and bleed your temple Dead on the scene your body a stencil Got what you need the weed it's special Lock up the Gs the keys my pencil Got melodies make you dance with the devil My freaks they wine on me there several Night mare on Elm St this shit Freddy Krueger Shooters with rugers to shoot your medula Blunts like the cigars imported from Cuba Opps they be missing like trips to Bermuda And I told that hoe come back wit my guala Niggas never had no bank no commas Remember your niggas get stained by there partner The next day say the opps done rob us
Writer(s): Jamal Amado Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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