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Ice Talk
by
EST Gee
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Lyrics
Yeah, yeah (Uh, uh) Yeah, yeah (Uh) Who got the ups on us? (Who got ups on us?) Strap across your shirt, like, n***a, buckle up (Helluva made this beat, baby) You can't miss, I send you on that hit, might die, you f**k it up Clip hold got like T trimmers, real street n***a, my money up Wave this b*t*h like, "Hey, what's up?" Soon as fat boy get close enough N***as don't want bump, they punks, on IG, hope I post 'em up I talk to them bodies late at night when I be rollin' up They know it's us Gone with all that flaggin', b*t*h, you braggin', now I choke on bruh .40, that's the caliber, the magazine is seventeen I got this from Medellín, eighteen timеs thirty-three I hope he ain't sellin' drеams, might go back to mailin' ki's I don't want no good b*t*h, make Dugg b*t*h a felon, please My wrist methamphetamine, you know this that ice talk Hop out on foot, let pipe off, yellow tape, white chalk OT, gettin' this ice off Four hundred mails, every country town around, we beat it down Used to bag up pieces, sittin' up east listenin' to "Wipe Me Down" I know they don't like me now, your brother, sister, cousin Feds ever hit the house, put my sh*t in the oven They get cheaper by the dozen Roster grew to a monster We blow them choppers, b*t*h I don't know my alphabets Tell me, what come after rich? Play with us, we whackin' sh*t, claimin' sh*t, and stampin' sh*t F**k y'all (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) These n***as don't want beef with us, they IG killers We bendin' blocks in three rentals, I don't see n***as Keep drillin', b*t*h, we breed killers We elite spinners Big shiner, keep his heat with him, eat and sleep with it Wake up, b*t*h won't f**k the youngin from the front, go get that makeup To make sure all my n***as had a piece, I took a pay cut Ho gon' put this 'partment in her name, you need some pay stubs I'm crankin' my fake drugs, four-hundred in eight months Ten with me like eight stuffed The driver like my idol, that's the only b*t*h I can't touch These n***as is not me, these n***as is not Gee Got blow pack, got roxys Got weed stems and boxed gin, I'm top ten Yeah, go catch one and get locked in Got out of line and get knocked in In my city, I'm top ten Number one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine With a white boy snortin' H lines In the side county, n***as can't find With a .45 on my waistline Like f**k n***as, I'm lit now Crossed over, I'm big slime I'm still slidin', I'm rich now Everybody gotta pick sides Took a risk to hold up my wrist high My lil' brother took six lives He a lil' n***a but look 6'5" Can the opps say they didn't hide? Yeah
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