EBK Jaaybo (YEA YEA)

Ayy, dived on my shooter, smoked your mama over me

Got sandpaper on that motherfuckin' Glock That's not a Gleek

That man only stalked the **** rappin', poppin' in the streets

Could've popped him with the Gleek, but I

You do, ****

But I ain't textured, those **** not tamed

Told the bitch, pay me, I'm that ****, then she blocked me

Choppa takin' ****' spirit from his body, hit like Miley, yeah

I treat my opp like he my son, but switch and pop his head

It's Don Muro, I throw my B's and sip a lot of red

He gon' interrupt me, I ain't sleep, I'm talkin' to the dead

My bitch gon' do that if I tell him, gotta keep him fed

Make sure you hit his head, I'm just an evil man

Now he could get the city drenched, my youngins killin' shit

The evidence prove he's a stepper, but he's innocent

Ayy, free the thugs, just send my bros some chou for noodles, rice, and chips

Oh, you alright with blick? **** dyin' in, jump out

I'm that **** tryna get it poppin', I am an artist

I ain't performin' at that show, I can't bring Glock in

Playin' with Pez, I just spent like 300 if we bein' honest

Sorry I ain't go to college, mama, I was fully rockin

On 7th Street with the thugs, on slow, the G could never leave me

Fuck all my suckas in this war on bloods, I'm only when I see him

Still droppin', gon' cause havoc to that cycle, I ain't breathin

I could turn into a demon, I don't think you wanna see it

Face shots, accustomed to the wrong shit, I need to change my way

Tell my granny I'm a killer, but I told her I keep beggin

Glock can't shoot, I threw some grease in that lil' bitch and made it yank

Chop around, make a train switch lane

Once upon a time, I thought the Drake was lyin

Ayy, but now I talk that bitch like I ain't buy a Crayon

Push up on him, he askin' me, what is jazz? Like, what you tryna say

Glocky Corporal Foley can't die, fightin', I ain't tryna fail

Bitch ain't pay me, I hope she die today

Yeah, yeah, yeah, go key yourself

My bro got 15 years to life, worst pain I ever felt

He from my block, won't never take him on no drill, cause he gon' tell

Shoot like a expert, you gon' know you hit the **** if he yell

Scream, ****, talkin' to labels with red flags on, I'm still G-Livin

And I don't even know Blood, why the fuck he keep dissin'

You better check him for a wire, thug, you know that he snitchin

Strap your nuts and keep spinnin', Southeast, G-Business

Pay my dudes the Jordan Corp., but I'm a 7th Street ****

Came to the club with the thot, and she left with me, ****

I gotta watch the outside smoke, when you fat, you breathe different

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Got out my suit or smoke yo' mama over me

Got sandpaper on that motherfuckin' Glock, that's not a glee

Damn it, I only stalk the **** rappin', poppin' in the streets

Could've popped him with the Gleeks, but I..

What you do, ****

Yeah, yeah, yeah

But I'm a 6th Top Street ****, on **** not 10

Told the bitch, pay me, I'm that ****, then she blocked me

Choppa takin' ****'s spirit from his body, hit like Molly, yeah

I treat my opps like he my son, but switch and pop his head

It's Don Rue, I throw my B's and sip a lot of red

Ayy, gon' interrupt me, I ain't sleep, I'm talkin' to the dead

My bitch gon' do that if I tell him, gotta keep him fed

Make sure you hit his head, I'm just an evil man, jazz

It's a city drench, my yak is killin' shit

The evidence, some people stabbed for goodie tennis

They could be the thugs that send my bros to chopper, noodles, rice, and chips

**** dyin', ****, shut up