This the shit that have you goin' a hunnid on the e-way
Stop the car, let me out, I left him laying on the freeway
Got niggas shooting behind me after me like it's a relay
Blow his candles out his candlelight, call it a murder b-day (Brr,brr)
Check the scoreboard
Nigga you can check the stats sheet
Run shit down like Sha'Carri in the track meet
Foot on him their necks
Put his noodles on concrete
Aye nigga
Business is what we standing on
Bullets hit his back, tell him to show it off like it's Vlone
Few things I don't play about, money, and respect, and my drones
You see mе, might play around, but I got bodies on my dome nigga
Shot a nigga at fifteen, I nevеr looked back since
Slam dunk a opp, my arm in the rim like I'm Vince
Purple bandana, purple, I feel purple 'rain like I'm Prince (Crip, crip,crip,crip,crip,crip)
I'm a money-making nigga, but I can't go out like Mitch Nigga (Brrt, brrt)
I bet them bullets change the subject
Why you stop suckin' my dick, bitch you seen I ain't nut yet
Niggas can talk all they want, I still ain't been touched yet
Brodi tell me chill, he know I kill, but nigga fuck that (Fuck that)
Cause if I don't get 'em, they got me
If I don't feel 'em, they bodied
Put thirty-three in them, Scottie, no Pippen
When bullets hit him, inject him
He feel 'em like penicillin
We put niggas past the ceiling, in the sky giving God a vision
Murder, murder
Killing, killing
Dirty .30 filled with sinnin'
For certain, I'm murkin' a person thinking that I ain't with it
Close the curtain, hospital visions
We flat lot of them bitches double back
Now that them niggas hit up his spine, now he Crippin'
Spine now he Crippin', nigga
Crip, nigga
NLE the Top Shotta, got the bombs like Al-Qaeda
Like what man? I'll drop 'em
Man, I'll slaughter, nigga
These niggas know what we standin' on
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
