CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : 6Print
They love that sh*t
They love the street sh*t
f**k n***as talkin' 'bout, n***a?
Gang sh*t, n***a
They really love when you living too, though, gang
(Iced Out Records)
Yeah
Pop a Xanny bar, get to actin' wild
Cappin' ass n***a need a cap and gown
f**k a pu**y, tell 'em real n***as back in style
Smoke sh*t like a black and mild
b*t*h, I rap and ride
Fifty-thousand off that fetty, this a bank drop
Put a dukey in my pop, yeah, this straight drop
I'll turn a n***a tee into a tank top
I'm the type of n***a catch a body, I'm on every block
Get 'em whacked for 700 like Yeezy sneaks
I heard all your opps pu**y, that's a easy beef
Pull up, shoot him in his sh*t, then we flee the scene
And I never let a n***a Young Jeezy mе
I won't smoke with whoever, I'll smokе whoever
Got lil gang up in this b*t*h, I put 'em on whoever
I've been present for a minute, got foot on the pedal
Realist n***a in this sh*t, I need to own a medal
Got better jewelry than the rappers, ain't went gold or platinum
Got a two-tone Audermaur, yeah, this b*t*h gold or platinum
I heard they hating with their eyes keep sh*t [?]
I made fifty-thousand in Atlanta, I'ma blow at Magic
Yeah
b*t*h, I made fifty-thousand in Atlanta, I might blow at Magic
n***a, what?
b*t*h, I made fifty-thousand in Atlanta, I might-
Man f**k that
I made fifty in Detroit, I might just blow at Truth
Or I'll slide up in Mustangs, we finna throw a coupe
b*t*h, I ain't talking 'bout the cops, but we them boys in blue
Yeah, told my n***as set the play and I'ma throw the oop
Told that b*t*h she set a play and she might lose her life
It's six o'clock and I can get a n***a blew tonight
If you got rats up in your circle, you might lose a stripe
They like, "Why you hang with all the robbers?"
I'm the shooting type
n***as always switching teams they got forty jerseys
I ain't really got no friends, n***as know I'm scurvy
Yeah, put that thirty on that boy 'cause I know he Curry
I'll up a Rol' on your b*t*h, yeah, I know she thirsty
She ain't never had no bag or no ice for real
You a lame and your ice ain't real
I can tell you ain't no plug 'cause your price ain't real
I'm the type of n***a cut the lean and up price on seals
n***a
What we on gang?
Still Robbin Season, b*t*h
You know how we coming, man
Know how I'm rockin'
Big 6 n***a, Drank God
Yeah (Iced Out Records)
We really on that
They love the street sh*t
f**k n***as talkin' 'bout, n***a?
Gang sh*t, n***a
They really love when you living too, though, gang
(Iced Out Records)
Yeah
Pop a Xanny bar, get to actin' wild
Cappin' ass n***a need a cap and gown
f**k a pu**y, tell 'em real n***as back in style
Smoke sh*t like a black and mild
b*t*h, I rap and ride
Fifty-thousand off that fetty, this a bank drop
Put a dukey in my pop, yeah, this straight drop
I'll turn a n***a tee into a tank top
I'm the type of n***a catch a body, I'm on every block
Get 'em whacked for 700 like Yeezy sneaks
I heard all your opps pu**y, that's a easy beef
Pull up, shoot him in his sh*t, then we flee the scene
And I never let a n***a Young Jeezy mе
I won't smoke with whoever, I'll smokе whoever
Got lil gang up in this b*t*h, I put 'em on whoever
I've been present for a minute, got foot on the pedal
Realist n***a in this sh*t, I need to own a medal
Got better jewelry than the rappers, ain't went gold or platinum
Got a two-tone Audermaur, yeah, this b*t*h gold or platinum
I heard they hating with their eyes keep sh*t [?]
I made fifty-thousand in Atlanta, I'ma blow at Magic
Yeah
b*t*h, I made fifty-thousand in Atlanta, I might blow at Magic
n***a, what?
b*t*h, I made fifty-thousand in Atlanta, I might-
Man f**k that
I made fifty in Detroit, I might just blow at Truth
Or I'll slide up in Mustangs, we finna throw a coupe
b*t*h, I ain't talking 'bout the cops, but we them boys in blue
Yeah, told my n***as set the play and I'ma throw the oop
Told that b*t*h she set a play and she might lose her life
It's six o'clock and I can get a n***a blew tonight
If you got rats up in your circle, you might lose a stripe
They like, "Why you hang with all the robbers?"
I'm the shooting type
n***as always switching teams they got forty jerseys
I ain't really got no friends, n***as know I'm scurvy
Yeah, put that thirty on that boy 'cause I know he Curry
I'll up a Rol' on your b*t*h, yeah, I know she thirsty
She ain't never had no bag or no ice for real
You a lame and your ice ain't real
I can tell you ain't no plug 'cause your price ain't real
I'm the type of n***a cut the lean and up price on seals
n***a
What we on gang?
Still Robbin Season, b*t*h
You know how we coming, man
Know how I'm rockin'
Big 6 n***a, Drank God
Yeah (Iced Out Records)
We really on that
