Текст песни Pop My Shit (feat. Est Gee) - Surf God

I think it's time I pop my shit
Fuck what they talking bout

One of the youngest niggas paid
Up in the city
That go without a doubt

Catching Flights to Cali
Twice a week
Just get them prices down

Only thing you catch
Is feelings for these bitches
When they come around

Now I'm stepping in latest

Even harder on the necks that hated

Know the road so well
Thought I paved it

Reach for my chain
Start hearing shots in cadence

Balling in the game
But I ain't the one play with

Demons in my head
Praying drugs save me

Stand on what Said
Then stomp on who make me

Really self made
These other niggas faking

Ya nigga flipping quarter ps
I'm flipping quarter keys

Coulda bought another whip
Instead got more designer sneaks

Got a bb Simon belt
She know what's poppin underneath

1911 on my hip
Old bitch be tighting up my jeans

He a shooter
Nah I shoot fr
I only shoot to kill

Big .45 won't even drop the shells
Same size as uncle Phil

They heard Gee done set a bounty
Now all the killers wanting deals

My lil shooter don't know nun
He came home cooking county meals

Every Nigga in my circle getting paid
I'm making sure of that

Ima front you what you buy
If you get took I need insurance back

Every dog gone have they day
Just make sure yours
Ain't when you got my bag

If they found out where you stay
Just keep that torch
You better burn they ass

I think it's time I pop my shit
Fuck what they talking bout

One of the youngest niggas paid
Up in the city
That go without a doubt

Catching Flights to Cali
Twice a week
Just get them prices down

Only thing you
Catch is feelings for these bitches
When they come around

Niggas sub posting Gee
I had no choice but to read Em

But never be on nun outside
Whenever I see Em

We gone run up 50 deep
Like we the casting for cheaters

My shooters ain't shoot
No lil cameras
They shoot big desert eagles

We been locked in, in blood
I can't let nun in-between us

If we fucked up
Ima send y'all
To who I think the sweetest

Or who's pockets the deepest
Make em rock you to sleep

You was popping
Till we pull that rocket
Outta outta our pocket

You ain't think we was some shooters
Till you moved an we shot ya

Every nigga round me slimey
But I like it I'm sorry

They can get money without me
If they honest about it

You know I'm bout my money bag
Like I'm sign to yo gotti

I think it's time I pop my shit
Fuck what they talking bout

One of the youngest niggas paid
Up in the city
That go without a doubt

Catching Flights to Cali
Twice a week
Just get them prices down

Only thing you
Catch is feelings for these bitches
When they come around