Lyrics

Lots of dipping and some butter While you were living with your mother I was pitching in the gutter Calmly gripping on this rubber Proper rocks High point Loaded with some copper tops Watching cops Oppas tried the vibers This is not the block Medicaid is celebrate today Like we never made it Measure weigh it by the whole day You make seven payments Fliego Delgado I used to sell bottles Filled up with coke and feed it to models Fuck Prada, fuck Gucci, I'm slayin' my own drip Fuck halfway friends who pray that you don't flip If you a real nigga, then pay for your own shit If you wanna stay free, don't lay where you goin', bitch You see me Lord walkin' Torah for a small fortune Elephants in, alligators cross the Lord Fortress Chasin' bags while the bars gettin' better Yeah I charge for these letters Thank Allah for this cheddar, Lord It's a few niggas that's nice but my flow is meaner Sellin' wild blow with Pablo's demeanor Soon as he get released, I'm coppin' bro the Beamer He got his feet up in that prison, but I know he eager Pussy nigga talkin' to me like he won't get ether He backed out, I snatched his pistol from him, broke his fingers Comin' through that shortcut, I blow the steamer Shawty in my pants, walkin' like I got a broken femur Ayo Flee, my nigga P would be proud When it come to that grimy shit, our name is ringin' around Ayo, pussy nigga, keep gettin' loud (talkin') I will body you and your body won't be easily found (boo-boo-boo) One verse is like three different styles It's unbelievable how these two niggas sound What's on my feet is too thiled You sneak diss and you just reach and you clown My shooter got ten bodies, he like the Reaper in town (That nigga nuts, though) Loyalty of death, we affiliated (ah) You wife the bitch, we penetrated, skeeted in the faces I got shot in my head, bitch, but still I made it I just took my lemons and I eliminate it Any rapper on my list can get eliminated How to take over the game, I just demonstrated You heard my last shit, that shit the illest ain't it Flee, they can't fuck with the shit we illustrated
Writer(s): Demond Price, David Paul Cordova, Jayquan Page Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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