Текст песни Private - Q Da Fool

Zaytoven
Uh (Baow, baow, baow, uh)
Uh (Yeah)
Duh
Doo-doo
Doo-doo-doo
Chk-chk-chk
Baow
Pew-pew, pew-pew-pew, pew-pew (Big 32, you know we turnt)

Glock, beam, bright, uh (Ayy, ayy, bitch)
Brodie take your life, uh (Ayy, ayy, uh)
Lock and load it tight (Ayy, what?)
Fuck up the show every night
You pussy ass niggas ain't shooting at Q (What?)
You pussy ass niggas be shooting at me
Sweeter than Froot Loops
I got the drop, you should stay out the loop
Lil' bitch, I still ride with the K in the coupe
I'm a real gangster, it run in my roots
Hit all my targets, might puncture your tooth
Your liver, your spleen, your cranium too
I'm mixing the work with the fentanyl
I run in your trap and I get it all
I go hit the block and I get it all
Kept riding my dick, had to shoot 'em all
I fuck on your bitch (Fuck)
She be like, "You the boss"
My Glock got a switch, uh (Switch, grrt)
Your life, you lost
Just hopped out the whip (Whip)
Pure white, ain't no Q raw
I play with your life like jigsaw
God forgive me, what them kids saw
Killed they parents with the sawed off

Plane, private (Private)
Yacht, private (Private)
Your bitch suck my privates (Ooh)
I'm looking for diamonds, I feel like a pirate (Damn)
Hollow tip hit that boy eyelid (Uh)
Y'all was sleeping, bitch, when I slid
How you hating on the chosen kid? (What?)
I take your hit, put a bag on it (Yeah), extortion

You getting income, bitch, I need a portion
I run it up, now, bitch, I got a fortune
He play with the gang, then that boy in the ocean
I was living too fast, but now I'm the fool coasting
Draco by the toaster (Toaster)
Hanging with the vultures (Vultures)
Never do it for the culture (No)
Bitch, I do it for my soldiers
I got narcotics, fuck the label tryna sign me
Got a bad bitch and I'm fucking on a thotty
AR in the trunk with fifty bodies
Truthful, popping off on anybody
Sixteen, I was robbing every party
You see me with all of them guns and I call it
I turn up them hoes, make them hoes get real gnarly
Fuck O-Dog, yeah, we did a robbery (Fuck that nigga)
But he fuck with anybody (Fuck that nigga)
Can't do it, I'm sorry (I'm sorry)
Run up that bag for a man tomorrow
Green 'Rari (My son, bitch)
Beans, probably (Oh)
I smoke like Bob Marley
Bitch, I'm the real don dada
Let me call Dolla
He plug with Big Poppa
He got real poppy seeds, he a brick farmer
My wrist real strong, my gun shoot farther
I treat a nigga like my shit, I had to flush his Honda
I'm plug with Big Poppa (Copy that, copy that)
Nigga, you a dick hopper, I am not a hip-hopper (No)
Coke inside the pot, I'm a powder locker
Steal my swag, tryna take my spot, uh, you're a jocker

Plane, private (Private)
Yacht, private (Private)
Your bitch suck my privates (Ooh)
I'm looking for diamonds, I feel like a pirate (Damn)
Hollow tip hit that boy eyelid (Uh)
Y'all was sleeping, bitch, when I slid
How you hating on the chosen kid? (What?)
I take your hit, put a bag on it (Yeah)