Текст песни 45 - 625LAY

Say they want the war then we could hit them with the .45
Came back in this bitch like Michael Jordan with the .45
Spinning through your hood, I pull up on you with the .45
Don't you fuck with me, I get excited with the .45
Boy you been a bitch, I swear I know about your whole life
They just shot your homie, but you pussy so you won't ride
I know you ain't really with the shit so homie don't lie
Smith and Wesson hit you in your neck just like a clothesline

I'm flipping chickens with my eyes closed, now homie that's a Bird Box
Say you want the beef then pussy boy you get it served hot
But they gon' be real careful cause they know what I'm 'bout
And homie you should know that you could die 'bout your mouth
You know that chopper keep on spitting like a motherfucking lyricist
And I ain't in the military but I'm moving militant
I wet your block up just for fun, da pistol sound like instruments
I know I did that shit but I'ma tell the judge I'm innocent
And you don't wanna try me, cause you could get your head blown
If you think I'm a pussy motherfucker, then you dead wrong
No you don't wanna try me, cause you could get your head blown
You talk about the gang, I think I'm finna catch a redrum

Say they want the war then we could hit them with the .45
Came back in this bitch like Michael Jordan with the .45
Spinning through your hood, I pull up on you with the .45
Don't you fuck with me, I get excited with the .45
Boy you been a bitch, I swear I know about your whole life
They just shot your homie, but you pussy so you won't ride
I know you ain't really with the shit so homie don't lie
Smith and Wesson hit you in your neck just like a clothesline

Aye lil bitch I'll leave you drippin' if I wet you with the .45
Work my wrist like I been whippin' chickens on the stove top
Turn that soft to hard, on my jean it's Saint Laurent
Got this stick no bodyguards, told my bitch just play your part
Spendings sacks when I'm Saks, I put that target on yo back
She throw that back right on lap, look at my drip, this ain't no tap
And on my fingers that's some racks, had me some niggas that turn some rats
So I'm still working ain't take no nap, nigga on fire like I lit that match
Nigga on fire like I lit that gas, I ain't count it up, nigga weigh that mass
All of these stones on me look like glass, I'ma keep that sip I ain't mean no flask
Skrting that foreign like they on my ass, bet they ain't know that it went this fast
Pockets on green make it look like grass, niggas act up ima film that cast

Say they want the war then we could hit them with the .45
Came back in this bitch like Michael Jordan with the .45
Spinning through your hood, I pull up on you with the .45
Don't you fuck with me, I get excited with the .45
Boy you been a bitch, I swear I know about your whole life
They just shot your homie, but you pussy so you won't ride
I know you ain't really with the shit so homie don't lie
Smith and Wesson hit you in your neck just like a clothesline