Lyrics

Look, pledge allegiance, my middle finger up like fuck polices Duke back better hide your nieces, cause I'm zoned out Tripping on purps and lean When I was 13, I could work the nina Just a young nigga tryna fuck Selena I done did dirt just to bring the team up So now I bring the team just to fuck the scene up Niggas know what's up, I'm in a rover truck And with a roll of sluts, she tryna pour me up And when she throw me up, bet I'ma hold her butt I bet that's why niggas wanna clone me, huh Bet that's why hoes be all on me, huh Best that you walk up slowly, because I got it on me And niggas don't know me bruh I'm stunting on these niggas like I'm Dana Dane Swerving lane to lane, my niggas banging gangs You niggas claiming gangs, you niggas claim the game But never came to hang, so shit just ain't the same And now we claim you lames, huh? See man I came up flames, and try to gain a name And then I made the name Bitch I ain't even wanna change the game These niggas telling me the rules have never played the game Now I'm looking like what the fuck? I told you bitch niggas not to fuck with us Cause if you fuck with us we got to fuck you up Pull out the bucky buck and leave you buttoned up Bunch of kids, with fucking guns, big fucking guns Bunch of kids, with fucking guns, big fucking guns Bunch of kids, with fucking guns, big fucking guns Bunch of kids, with fucking guns, big fucking guns, bang Big, fucking guns, big fucking guns, bang Big, fucking guns, big fucking guns, bang Real motherfucker from the set like whoa FIGSIDE FIGSIDE I'm yelling out grove, got your homies off Shit will prolly make the news Everybody dead, this ain't April fools, nigga Playing with your life, flossing all morning, we ain't get them tonight Soon as everything is cool, green light on sight Creep so hard, think god did I'm a fucking loc, you ain't getting money, you's a fucking joke Nigga, what the fuck you mean, TDE bitch, motherfuck your team Knock, knock, knock, nigga clear the scene Everybody gone, only took a minute, I had the nina Glock And held 9 to pop, I got 9 to drop, around 9 o'clock, uh, nigga Yeah, like the odds, steal your granny shit keep the foil hot I'm looking for the fiends with the grimy socks With the dirty nails and the girly tops Yeah, I'm getting rich tonight Sell your pussy bitch you're getting pimped tonight Yeah, make a right on Fig, get your dick sucked, hundred bucks, right on trick Get guns, split wigs, yeah, a kid This world ain't give you shit But pussy till you dead, the signature stack Cause you might get sick Cotton candy sweet as gold, let me see your pussy ho Throw it back, clap it slow, show me why they call you ho Bitch I'm up I know you know, tell me what you playing for Bitch I ain't fiending, what is you feeling Bitch is you with it, bitch, I am with it Now bitch just chill, this how it is when the shit get real Pistol grip and an eggman whip, with a distant bitch On some pimping shit Bars R us, now tell them fuck niggas don't bother us I rap with the strap, no robbing us And we ball like ain't nobody guarding us Start back nigga, chopper to your head line, park that nigga You a bitch boy, where your heart at nigga Small fish in the water where the sharks at nigga Touch this, touch that, I bust first, you can't bust back Racks on racks yeah I touch that I ride henny while you walking with your butts back Nigga fuck that, fuck this, no fuck shit, cause I'm a YG I be, getting money, swear the dollar sign is my ID Say my nigga, I know you niggas heard, I don't play my nigga Next up, out the C.A, my nigga, I can shit on these rappers all day my nigga Ye, ye, my nigga, money team flow Ray J my nigga That's a joke nigga, laugh, dirty money show we putting hundreds in the back Diss about mine and we running in your lap, have 10 for a line Niggas coming for your ass Got a groove nigga with me, that's a whole front of 50 Single wood door F's in the room from the biddy Make a diss about mine and we running in your lap, have 10 for a line Niggas coming for your ass Got a Groove nigga with me, that's a whole front of 50 Single wood door F's in the room from the biddy Whoh, bitch
Writer(s): Ricci Riera, Quincy Matthew Hanley, Axel Morgan, Lonnie Kimble Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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