I done stepped so much, my legs hurt, I put in leg work Yeah, he say he got some bodies, we shoot at heads first No, we don't do attempts, we step on shit, this shit on purpose, boy Bitch, I ain't insane, I blew his brain, I had to murk the boy Salute you if you caught a body, bitch, I did too My youngin had to earn his stripes so we slid too Why you bring me one lil' switch? Bitch, I said, "Two" Why she ask me if I bang and flag around? My head blue Got Ps that's so amazin' for the low, they fabuloso Got New York locs I know that just be bangin', shop at SoHo She just took a flight for just one night, she a go-go Let me film that bitch while she give hеad, she a GoPro Drinkin', I feel like a fiend, no, I can't stop for nothin' This thirty I got too horny, it seein' my opp, it's bustin' I walk up with my FN, shit, that sound likе cussin' I share some blood with locs, but I call bro my cousin I really pop the pills and pop the guns and pop my shit, for real You on the West coast and fuck with clowns, well, shit, I fuck with Steelz Ever seen heart stops when they body drop? Know how it feel? I just dropped a bag, have 'em sign that paper, it's a deal
I want murder, I want murder, I want murder, I just murder opps We the type to step on your lil' brother, he ain't heard of us Bless the ones that live, the ones got hit, nah, they ain't heard the shots I just get so happy when my opps help make that casket drop One, two, three opps, twenties what my crips rock We sell smack like Chris Rock, I might get your bitch knocked One, two, three guns, pull up slow, he run The way that he move with a stick, you would think he blind like he don't see nothin'
He ain't take no fakes or take no hits, how the fuck he crip? I done bossed up, then I turned to coach, I done sent some blicks I could walk up, just by my approach, know I'm with the shits Assistant went to get my brand new drip, I ain't go to Fifth Treatin' the gang how I'm wearin' the clothes, you know that I'm puttin' it on Bro got shit that he move so fast, he feel like it's runnin' straight through him Hang around mine, we had to kill, we hopped out but I knew him Transportation fucked up on a bus, so we flew him
I want murder, I want murder, I want murder, I just murder opps We the type to step on your lil' brother, he ain't heard of us Bless the ones that live, the ones got hit, nah, they ain't heard the shots I just get so happy when my opps help make that casket drop One, two, three opps, twenties what my crips rock We sell smack like Chris Rock, I might get your bitch knocked One, two, three guns, pull up slow, he run The way that he move with a stick, you would think he blind like he don't see nothin'Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
