This Hench Mafia, bitch
Get yo' ass hit with the grip
Bitch, it's Hench Mafia
Hit a nigga with a russian AK-47
Bitch-ass niggas
Bitch, it's Hench Mafia, spot him, then I drop him, bruh
Face in the guillotine, chop his head, I slice him up (C'mere)
Bitch, I always defeat, it never came down to a rival, bruh
Nice with the speech, spittin' knowledge like a Bible
But the lord cannot save you
Send the preacher's son to the grave too
Harsh, but fuck it, pop told me to smoke 'em if them boys play you
If they snitchin', I choke 'em, get hit for tryna say who
Them Hench Mafia niggas reckless, don't want know what they do
Ship them rockets out here from Texas, you can tell how they shoot
Pockets skinny, look at him [?], he forgot to eat breakfast
Fed that nigga some Texas toast, this Texas TEC to his nose
Embroidered Bawskee on a hoodie, not no regular clothes
And all my bitches are 10s, these not no regular hoes
I blow so much dope, and boy, this not no regular smoke
XD up in my pocket, "Du-du-du-du-du" and he gone
Ain't nothin' changed, bitch, I still feel right when I do wrong
It's one change, just the paper, it was short, now it's long
The one witness was the neighbor, now that nosy bitch gone
Bitch, it's Hench Mafia, spot him, then I drop him, bruh
Face in the guillotine, chop his head, I slice him up (C'mere)
Bitch, I always defeat, it never came down to a rival, bruh
Nice with the speech, spittin' knowledge like a Bible
But the lord cannot save you
But-but the lord cannot save you
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)