Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Sniper blicky da blicky, da blicky, da blicky, da blicky
Smash Bros
Bands, bands, bands, bands
Racks, racks, racks, racks
Gang, gang, gang
[Verse 2]
Pass me the ratchet, I'm fiendin' to squeeze it
Got FN's and blickies stuffed right in my sweater
They tryna book me but I need the backend
Up front just to pull up, that's word to the set
We left a slug through his kidney, his liver
And if he ain't dead, we gon' unload the rest
Get off your ass and go get you a bag
I be drippin' and flexin', my pockets stay fat
[Verse 3]
Ride with the gang, we gon' load him and stretch him
Push up on whatever, my young **** game
Ball, do him dirty, I promise he's strapped with a thirty
And he'll get to feeling like Steph
Hop out the coupe, bitch, we ride in the field
Get to blowing this bitch like a motherfuckin' ref
Can't wait on a thing, bitch, it's money to make
Give a fuck if you with it, get right or get left
[Verse 4]
I know I got **** upset 'cause my chain VVS
But I really came from the 'jects
Took 30K out to go flex, poured up for the 'plex
Bitch, I'm tryna step on a neck
[Verse 5]
Think I'ma die for respect
Right then a left
Shotty gon' open his chest
Pull up, we leaving a mess
Ice on my neck
Flooded it out, flex
Run up on him, back out
Pullin' straps out
Ten, ****, back down
Hit the mall and cash out
Bring them racks out
Fuck her, make her tap out
Stick up your trap with a hundred pipes
If it's war, then we perching a hundred nights
All my opps know this blicky ain't nothing nice
Get you popped in your glizzy, you acting light
[Verse 6]
We gon' slide on his block if it's necessary
22Gz, NFN, bitch, it's legendary
Hit him up with the Glock, he get very dirty
Stuck a dick in the glizzy, it's very sturdy
You a hoe like your pops, it's hereditary
We gon' march like the month after February
Main bitch acting up, got a secondary
If he play, we gon' give him a cemetery, on gang
[Verse 7]
Pass me the ratchet, I'm fiendin' to squeeze it
Got FN's and blickies stuffed right in my sweater
They tryna book me but I need the backend
Up front just to pull up, that's word to the set
We left a slug through his kidney, his liver
And if he ain't dead, we gon' unload the rest
Get off your ass and go get you a bag
I be drippin' and flexin', my pockets stay fat
[Verse 8]
Ride with the gang, we gon' load him and stretch him
Push up on whatever, my young **** game
Ball, do him dirty, I promise he's strapped with a thirty
And he'll get to feeling like Steph
Hop out the coupe, bitch, we ride in the field
Get to blowing this bitch like a motherfuckin' ref
Can't wait on a thing, bitch, it's money to make
Give a fuck if you with it, get right or get left
[Verse 9]
Hold on, hold on
Sniper blicky da blicky, da blicky, da blicky, da blicky
Bands, bands, bands, bands
Racks, racks, racks, racks
(Hah, **** know how we rolling)
Gang, gang, gang
Written by: Jeffrey Alexander, Quinlan McAfee
