Correction Lyrics How I Rock (Tooka Pack)* by King Von

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Lyrics

Banger
Huh?
DJ on the beat so it’s a banger

You know how I rock, I’m from that block, boy, I keep a Glock
One up top, pass it to my shorty, if the police hot
She a thot, she just suck me up, we up in your car
Crazy Story, that’s her favorite song, she sing it bar for bar
Audemar, I ain’t got one yet, I’ll prolly go tomorrow
I’m a star, that’s what mama told me, I was behind bars
When I stole that car, I ain’t go that far, just around the block
I picked up Top, we was bad as hell, foenem throwin’ rocks

Muwop and Joey, they had on flip-flops
My luck, folks ‘nem sellin’ P’s, they got the block locked
Popped up, unannounced, nigga, I’m gon’ pop some
Stop frontin’, doin’ all that woofin’ and ain’t gon’ drop none
Drop some, everybody holler, “Von, drop somethin”
But I can’t, ’cause all the opps dead, it’s hard to drop somethin’
Smokin’ on this Tooka pack and it’s loud as fuck
Foenem caught Tooka ass gettin’ off the bus
I know Tooka mad as hell, he probably tired of us
But when I die, find Tooka ass and I’ma beat ’em up
I kill shit, on some real shit, this the drill shit
And chill, bitch, this the Kel-Tec, I push your shit back
And sit back, this the Hellcat, this bitch go real fast
Ayy, who is that? He don’t look familiar, foenem kill his ass
Ain’t bill his ass
This that sneaky pack, it came from Trinidad
Ain’t come along, hell nah, boy, I be with Smith & Wess’
Hit his chest, if that nigga run, fuck it, hit his back
Can’t bring him back, now that nigga trendin’ on the internet
You know how I move, I’m a fool, but I keep the tool
Stick and move when you was up in school
I was on the news, breakin’ the rules
Bullets hit his shirt, knock him out his shoes
Thought he was cool, but he got hit the worst
You know how I do

I ain’t with the back and forth, no, I just can’t get into that
Get his loin, get him whacked, if he ain’t tap, we spinnin’ back
No, I don’t know Will Smith but I know ’bout the Men In Black
I know how that block work, I come straight from dealin’ crack
Dissin’ in them lyrics think it’s sweet, no he won’t ride for long
Throwin’ bullets Pat’ Mahomes, check the scope, we got it on
Chiraq always ride with chrome, .40 shells gon’ crack his dome
No need to stand over him, they know for a fact he gone
And I got this bitch on fire, told her “Hide it or pass it on”
And your bitch can vouch, been with the gang, we don’t cap in song
She want fame, she latchin’ on, gon’ blow me like a saxophone
Late night I might do one-sixty, swervin’ through the traffic cone

Von
DJ on the beat so it’s a banger

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