Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Quan Allen
Songwriter
Lyrics
Give me ten minutes
Let me get finished
Grab my tennis shoes
Mac eleven and a wood tip
Boy hiding cuz he know we riding
It get violent
Plus we higher than some pilots
All up in this bitch silent I know
He know
That we comin' and we searchin for him
No glory
Have me lickin' shots
It's over for em
If he try and run he done
Shootin both guns
There's a problem where we from
We don't believe in havin' fun
My condolences I had to take your only son
If he was real
He wouldn't have ended up a hole in one
Ain't a vest gon save him
From the K that I be waving
Bitch I'm coming 4 for a payment
Or I'm coming just to take it
I know
It's a shame should've tamed yo shit
Now I got yo brains on some hang low shit
I ain't paying for a shooter
Imma shoot yo shit
I be staying in my lane
You better do yo shit
I am Evel
Knievel
I don't fuck wit people
Came in this bitch alone
But we ain't equal
I can give you plenty reasons
For this Glock in yo mouth
But I rather not speak
Let the shot rang out
I go hard on a **** like a **** don't know
No smoke
If you know what you know then you know
Imma muthafuckin' killer wit a beat
On a flow
I could hit him wit these novx so silencio
Ahh
Why they let me in wit this pole?
Shoot him in the neck
He spill his gin on the floor
**** disrespect me
Puttin ten in his nose
I ain't playin' round wit you
Put his chin on his toes
Problem wit an infamous gator
I see you later
Shots rang out yo way
I ain't no faker
Money rang on my line
I am bout paper
You know what it is lil ****
I am a gator
I apologize for nothin
Who you fuckin?
Dare yo **** say somethin'
Imma punch him
Shoot a **** dead in the face
Self defense shit
Always keep this bitch on my waist
I don't mend shit
Beef shit last forever
Ask Giorgio
**** moved out of the state cuz he was such a hoe
Fourth and goal
Shit slow mo
But it's a portrait though
Imma catch a body
A homi before I'm forced to go
Written by: Quan Allen
