Correction Lyrics No Hook by Treez Lowkey

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Lyrics

Hellcat, hop out with the gat, super predator
My pistol black, I got magazines like an editor
Your body splat, Man worry bout your team no competitor
Get kidnapped, tranquilizers hit ya feel the sedative
Bullets chasin' you can't even run home to your relatives
Close range, hit ya two feet, like a pedicure
Bitch petty, told her y'ain't need to block my cellular
I tell ya what, ain't not drama bitch you know we blow ya up
I'm in the cut, shoutout to my mother, raised a f*ckin' mutt
Bitch I'm a dog, told ya I'm a f*ckin' mutt, don't give no f*ck
I spend it all, like what's that? Benji? Alexander?
That's my new coat, like a panther, got the patches. with the leather
Got the black tint like a camper, and my cup dirty, like a hamper
My bitch foreign I don't understand it, she was slangin' like a salamander
And a lot of niggas love to slander, So I always gotta keep my hammer
And your main bitch on my planters, like where the f*ck is your manners?
Ask on my regular, don't hit the cellular, just hit the messenger, I got the addicts
I'm countin' the money, I'm thumbing a fetty, I hop out the telsa with girls like I'm teddy
Money it come and it go, went to the strip n' my pockets start bustin' confetti
This money it come and it go, I want the ice on my til' it feel like a yeti
P90 bullets gon' hit you, spaghetti, my shooters they bout it, they pull up, they ready
I upgrade your bitch to what's patek? from chevy, I think that bitch want me, she calling me daddy
Pull up and niggas start feelin' the pressure, their heart rate increasin' they palms gettin' sweaty
Bullets a bullet yeah it'll give you a wedgie, my bitch diamonds wet that's a Tiffany swirley
Hey, up in this bitch goin' turbo, remix the walk with the K-rolls
I got your main on my payroll, I f*cked that bitch like yesterday, what you just seen was a day old
Niggas really get they wig snapped, big Glock with the kickback
Leave your body at the playground, where my little niggas slid at
Pull off in a big cat, pull up count a big rack
Ride down the street with a choppa, call that shit P90-X
Pistol with a diamond grip, I add a damn extended clip
I'm really bout' the friendly fire, nigga f*ck that friend-ship
I'm really bout' my f*ckin' lyrics, you can check my penmanship
And if you come 'round startin' drama, nigga I'm gon' end ya shit
End ya shit, really end ya shit, get all in ya shit
We in your crib, and we in ya bitch, really ain't shit
Heard I was a asshole, but nigga y'ain't seen shit
My niggas rappers, and they trappers nigga y'ain't been shit
Real niggas still alive, risk county goin' five
You can look me in my eyes, young nigga but I'm wise
Told my little nigga mask up, cuz he ain't guaranteed twice
It's real hot outside, bath towel off white
On the block with my Glock, caught these niggas actin' like cops
I'm known to sell some hard shit, but ain't servin' no rock
Got wound up them snitch niggas always pitchin' that drop
You f*ck around with young federline, you f*ck around n' get popped

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