CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : OG Love

Yeah, yeah, I pray to the Lord my soul to keep, cause these b*t*h n***as after me
My Glock in my lap, but the Drac' in my seat
You can get smoked like some wrapper weed
When these n***as see me you know they gon' speak
And you know these n***as dapping me
But they be the same n***as that be d**k ridin' on the internet bashing me
Dolce & Gabbana, I got me some drip
She say she want kids, put some on her lip
I'ma bend that b*t*h over, hit hеr from the rear
b*t*h, I beat up hеr guts while I bite on her ear
Man a n***a was broke had to find me a crib
And I'll get a n***a whacked and I won't shed a tear
Real ass gangsta, real ass thug
All the OG's show me love
Ay, real ass shooter, I never hesitate
I have a n***a askin' for the call to the heaven gates
Had too much fake around I had to separate
I sat at the table ain't had no food on the plate
Pray to the Lord, I hope I see better days
Still got some n***as that stuck up on section A
Shots at the trap so I had to evacuate (Hey, hey, yeah)

Rich ass n***a with a whole lotta stacks
Run off on me, you get shot in your back
And I keep me a gun, I never lack
And I'm f**kin' this b*t*h with no strings attached
And you know I'm a Crip, my n***a a slatt
I'll get a n***a whacked if he turn to a rat
And this sh*t is no cappin' I don't like hats
b*t*h this life that I'm livin' I put it in raps
Pole never fold so I had the zip-zip
On the block with the gang, with the Glock on my hip
Crack him on coke, but I got me a sip
Got to whippin' in the kitchen I ain't even gonna slip
White b*t*h want a molly, but I got Perkies
Should I catch me a body? It ain't worth it
Gotta clean this .30, finna get dirty
Got away with murder one time, so I ain't worried
Reload on your block then I let off some shots
How you gon' run from me when I got a red dot?
On the block in the sun, b*t*h I think I'm a rock
Put this pole in his face and he gone with them shots
b*t*h, you strafe when you aim, so I know you nervous
These n***as they b*t*hes, they scared of the surgeon
This gun on my side, so I'm never worried
And b*t*h when I die put my face on the jersey
All these n***a plottin' on me
Just know that I keep the rocket on me
Never leave the house without this burner on me
That explains why the oppositions runnin' from me
I play the Drac' like a guitar
And my Glock got a d**k like a pornstar
Real Jamaican, I hang with the rastas
And I keep me a choppa for robbers
Ay, picture me with this 23
Slidin' on your street, 'bout four deep
Spin the block one time, two times, three times like it was a repeat