Lyrics Cracked (I'm Him 2) - Iayze

Ayy, real Murda Worth shit, I'm talkin' 'bout
We leave his car on flats
He crashed, it's on flats (get on his ass)
Go, go
That's on fast, we be in a car, on flats (bitch, bitch)
Ayy, bitch, aye, go, real Murda Worth shit, I'm talkin' 'bout

My racks came in fast (bitch)
You say I'm a opp, better get on my ass
You ain't gon' shoot, that's facts
If we see that whip, we gon' leave him on flats
Glock on my hip, hit 'em up like tats (like tats)
If he want a verse, then he gotta get taxed
I don't hear shit, I can only hear the racks
50 round drum, gave that lil' nigga heart attack

He from the 'burbs, that lil' nigga ain't on that
Lil Dee catch him, and smoke his lil' dumbass
Jay got a switch, he won't play with yo' dumbass
My shooter berserk, tryna lurk, who done hit my phone?, I feel like lurch
I am the one who's gonna shoot, I did that work
Pull up, and hop out the coupe, and shot him first
They six deep, shot the biggest one last
I'm finna ball out, bitch, like Steve Nash

Kicked out of school 'cause I smelled like weed in class
7.62 hit his car and it made him crash
Yo' bitch on dick and it got her cracked
I only be in the stu' droppin' hits
They treat this shit like Crack
Play in this bitch, then yo' lil' dumbass gettin' hit
Cut his head off, throw that shit in the trash (bitch)

My racks came in fast (bitch)
You say I'm a opp, better get on my ass
You ain't gon' shoot, that's facts
If we see that whip, we gon' leave him on flats
Glock on my hip, hit 'em up like tats (like tats)
If he want a verse, then he gotta get taxed
I don't hear shit, I can only hear the racks
50-round drum, gave that lil' nigga heart attack

Ain't on that (bitch)
Smoke his lil' dumbass
Won't play with yo' dumbass
Hit my phone, I feel like lurch, bitch
That work, bitch