Lyrics Crash Dummy - Quin Nfn

Hold on, ayy, bow bow bow bow (Cio)
Hold on, gang, gang, hold on, hold on
Gang, bow bow bow bow, ayy
Hold on, ayy, ayy, hold on, gang

Hold on, hold on
I swear to god I ain′t never had luck
Feeling like Pac how we hitting niggas up
And we in the four with them sticks in the truck
Talking about beef, and he blitzing or what
Chanel on my sneaks, is he creeping or what
She say she like when I grip on her butt
Play with her she gon' die we be tripping for nothing
Bust down the Rollie, a two tone
She a thot, Ima pop with my shoes on
It be feeling so right when I do wrong
Niggas sleeping on Quin, tell them snooze on
I been trapping too hard got a new phone
Cause I ain′t got time for the feds nigga
Nigga pipe with that gang he a dead nigga
Have him holding his heart like the pledge nigga

Send a whole lot of shots we gon' slide like a Visa
Riding foreign with my bitch, we both got us a beamer
And these niggas flock, tryna cop my demeanor
Try to run in the trap and get ran like fajitas
We got a whole lot of shots, tequila
Playing with a whole lot of racks, Serena
She know I'm rich she pick up when I need her
Rocking Dior but the Prada look cleaner
I been on guala since I was a toddler
Refuse to step out unless I′m rocking designer
She wanna fuck cause she know I′m a problem
I came out the four and I'm strapped with the chopper
T′d up we tryna shoot at niggas mommas
We gon take a four if you start up that drama
Came from the block, I was deep with my partners
Now we in LA tryna eat on some pasta
We upping the shots, he gon' need him a doctor
Tvo throwing G′s with some G's on his collar
I′m tired of the ratchets I need me a rider
Got a whole lot of cheese, need the whole enchilada
He made a diss but ain't go with his morgue
Heard he dropped the bag, come and get it approved
Cause he want some beef, it's gon′ end on the news
I be rolling up Runtz to go land on the moon
I′m gone

Hold on, hold on
I swear to god I ain't never had luck
Feeling like Pac how we hitting niggas up
And we in the four with them sticks in the truck
Talking about beef, and he blitzing or what
Chanel on my sneaks, is he creeping or what
She say she like when I grip on her butt
Play with her she gon′ die we be tripping for nothing
Bust down the Rollie, a two tone
She a thot, Ima pop with my shoes on
It be feeling so right when I do wrong
Niggas sleeping on Quin, tell them snooze on
I been trapping too hard got a new phone
Cause I ain't got time for the feds nigga
Nigga pipe with that gang he a dead nigga
Have him holding his heart like the pledge nigga

Damn
Hold on, hold on, oh
Riding around town
Playing around with us
Talking about nothing, another one down
Fucking around with us, you get shot, popped
I′m Chris Brown
Nigga play around we gon' hunt him down
I′m in the four, tryna, hold on