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Grrah
Grrah, uh-huh
Ayy
Two Glocks, two shots, two opps
These bitches be linin', these niggas why not? (Boom, boom)
Why you fuckin' wit' a nigga who ain't got no bodies?
When it's beef, don't be runnin' to the cops (To the cops)
Lay low, bro shootin' through the door
Don't be yellin' out, "Gz," when it's been fuck folks (GDK)
This TEC gon' blow, on bro, I been smokin'
Dead niggas, got gas for the low (Dead opps)
Don't talk, better think, better use your brain
Don't tweak, get beat (Use your brain, bitch)
Don't show no freak, don't blink, if you
Wanna just beef, I'ma charge a fee (Grrah)
Rush 'em, hop out the V, niggas duckin' (Go)
We in Wall, I could pull out the Russian (What? What?)
Don't be callin' my phone 'bout nothin'
(Don't be callin' my phone 'bout nothin')
Don't be callin' my phone 'bout nothin'
Like, damn, like, damn
Bullets hot, burnin' out the stomach
You send six, I'm sendin' a dozen (Grrah)
Back out, then you better up it
If I back out, we'll do 'em for nothin' (Like, what? Like, damn)
On my cousin, I'm sendin' a hundred (No cap)
Now you runnin' like Forrest, you bumpin' (What? What?)
What you did? You ain't do nothin'
Fuck it, he ain't gon' see nothin' comin' (Grrah, grrah, grrah)
He won't see the pole (Yeah)
When I'm uppin', I'm lettin' it go (No cap, no cap)
Damn, I ain't savin' a soul (Like, what?)
If you got the chop', then you better blow (Nigga, you better blow)
Move opp, you better get low (Nigga, you better get low)
Niggas rattin', they sellin' they soul (No cap, like, damn)
I could never run a verse that's thirty or better
And if you play, .30, I'ma neck 'em
She think she a demon, well, bitch, I'm the reaper
Killin' these bitches like Angel the Creepers
Bitches be switchin' and tellin' your secrets
You think you the hardest? You medium, leader
And if she wit' it, he call me his diva
Bullets, they hot, it's gon' leave him a fever
Don't want that nigga, he callin' my beeper
Ayy, I'm really crazy, I'm really violent
I'm with some killers, we turn up the violence
He say he love me, I fuck him and rob him
He say he love me, I fuck him and— (Fuck him and—)
Where your bitch? I can't find her
Where your Glock? You don't pop it
Bitches boppin', niggas watchin'
If it's pressure, I ain't got no time
Like, damn, like, damn
He— He damaged, might need a checkup
You know he drop when we hit his chest up
Who we next up?
And it's sad to you
I got more bread than the average dude
You a fool
I got a tool, drillin'
Run up, I'm shootin' at you
Still a deuce, three won't miss
Fuck it, I'ma just empty the clip
Lil' dumb nigga, he ran and he tripped
Your mans get low, I'ma 'oot at his glizz'
He— He done, dead on the strip
Slide in the dirt, but I clutch on his grip
John Wick, my shit different
Like, who don't spin? Lil' nigga, you trippin'
We winnin', y'all niggas broke
All these blues, my Gz can't fit 'em
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