Текст песни




Ayy, huh
Gang
This that Front Street shit, nigga, huh
Free the thugs, nigga, huh
Fuck yourself, kill it
Ayy
Bitch, I need bands, I don't do friends (Nah)
Glock leave a nigga hot with a new tan (Ooh)
Glock 20, ten milli', need two hands (Hot)
Forty bullets start spinnin' like a new fan (Gang)
Catch me boomin' in the trap countin' big blues (Ooh)
40 On me, wet him up like fish food (Wet)
Baby got hella class like a big school (Ayy)
Point him out with these 7.62s (Brrt)
'Cause you gon' think your niggas racist
How they left you hangin' (Hangin')
Your bitch wanna suck a nigga, but I'ma need a payment (Nigga)
And if the whip ain't got tips, I can't even hang in (No)
Every time we up in traffic, got the .30s hangin' (Gang)
You ain't never did a drill, stop purpin' to us (Why?)
We don't fuck with broke hoes, I'm allergic to 'em (Huh?)
Purse first, ass last, and I'm purchin', nigga (Yeah)
Mask on, tools out like a surgeon, nigga (Boom)
Free the real, fuck the rest, we don't feel niggas (Never)
Big chop, I just bought it for you lil' niggas (Ayy)
Tryna put my niggas on, I'm a real nigga (Huh?)
I wanna see my baby rich, I'm a lil' different (Ayy)
Told moms I need a mansion and I'm gon' get it (Real)
To be specific, eight rooms and a few kitchens (I need it)
Lot of cars outside, did I forget to mention? (Huh?)
Get in the way, shots fired and that's two for flinchin' (Ba-bow)
All my niggas gettin' money, used to struggle though (Yeah)
And you be fuckin' with them suckers, you my cousin though (Facts)
Better not be hangin' when we be slidin' through (No)
The windows down when we pull up, no drive-thru (Boom, boom)
And I be really livin' what these niggas rappin' 'bout (Huh?)
These niggas get around bitches and start actin' out (Actor)
And every time my niggas out, keep a strap around
And if he snitchin', joke's up, gotta pack him out (Gotta go)
Baby, I'm really in the field, fuck the internet (Fuck it)
I heard you fuckin' with them niggas, then you gettin' wet
Bitch, I need a couple bands, no disrespect (Huh?)
Put respect on my name 'cause I been a vet (Huh?)
Two poles in the whip and it's just me (Just me)
And you can catch thirty shots, nigga, plus three (Plus three)
And how you fuckin' with them niggas tryna plug me? (Huh?)
Trust you? Nigga, I can't even trust me
Trust you? Nigga, I can't even trust me
Trust you? Nigga, I can't even trust me



Авторы: Billy Crawford, Gerrard Baker, Kingsley Gardner Copyright: September Seventh Music Publishing



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