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I got beef with the law I used to step with swords Now we hot step with the 4s Any estate, do a little tour Fire off corn and show man war Too much pos so we score So how you gonna talk about scores when you’re running from war I’m running from jail, sales and caught More way trips, bare skrt skrt skrt Smoking dope with bro Had the whip in sport Nuff peng tings, wanna do me They don’t wanna do me and gang on tour Love 35, straight to the lung Like brodie what is the draw He got wacked, he got chinged So how these punks gon talk about scores Niggas chat 'til the papers write on papers With season statements I was with J, more way trips And he got his face in the papers More time I got mind on the papers Chasing Elizabeth’s faces They had me on trial for knifings and violence But I thank Allah for busting those cases Letras de canciones67 my brodies Bang corn for my homies Talking stick gun wan show me The man there fibbing they phonies Man a man step, get it correct On point shots like Kobe Fill up the 4s, lurk on your block You can end up with your homie Put smoke on the roads with bro Pull up, bow, bow They thought ma was gonna say yo Talking guns and drugs You ain’t got no Ps for a poke Talking guns and drugs You ain’t got no Ps for a poke Jugging, jugging all I know Mummy said you can’t be broke So I’m brucking bricks down with bro Guns, money, drugs Yeah man do that shit on the road Free Skeng and Jigga J Man can’t wait ’til they home Fill the mash to the dome Rolling round with some hot heads Finger itching, they blow Skengs out on any block Bro Milly Rock like Mayno Do a drill, take my shoes off Jailbait I smoke dope Man I really trust a soul If you're bro, I ain't slapping that po 44 donkey kicking Sound that drum, you can hold this rhythm Put holes in your coat and your hat If you’re caught slippin’ Serious drillings T house living, crack rocks dishing Tryna make me a killing Cheff man up when that rambo’s out Bare blood spilling Free Benny that’s bro When he’s home, back to the pyrex whipping The opps don’t come to the hill They say they do but they fibbing Come to my block Bare gunshots, could be dippings Fill the skeng out with hollows No one’s on the drive Then we skrt round Wano Then make that crash, them man dash Stones come fat like Rocko Stone come fat like Rocko Amm buds man bill it I don’t wanna hit your loud That spliff tastes insigish Peng lighty thickish Doggy style when I hit it Make bands in the trap From the pack that I’m flipping Running man trap for the figures Mobbing I told momma I wanna live healthy Don’t phone late, that’s the time that I’m jogging Really don’t when man jogging Two Ls up tryna spot him This gun rude like Loski And the corn had him Kennington bopping 67 don’t bang, they’re all moist They do music You stupid boy, you confused it Gonna have me out, tryna prove it Dutty ped with the dutty 4 Tryna shoot hearts like I’m cupid Cause I told my environment See the savage life I didn’t choose it You say you’re a driller, show me Big gun got me feeling like Tony None of them killed your friend I gotta shout Insie still phone me Bare man act like they know me You can’t spread my hand You don’t know me Peng tings loving the gang How the fuck could a nigga like me get lonely It’s mad how we fuck up the music ting And we still do bootings bait If we want you to know who did it Then why would we hide our face Drill up estates, drill up estates Then I go do goals with bae Man drill up estates, drill up estates Then I go and do goals with bae Gang Still pull up in a whip Big 357 on my hip Live corn in my clip, got 6 Redrum when my paigon slips And them man know that we take trips And I’ll bang down from his head to his hip I always got something niggas don’t slip Why the fuck would I talk when my gun do hits Gang yeah we lurk with things But touring all my opps, they ain’t on piss So why did they talk like this Keep talking, see the gun that I grip Yeah you can get shot by it And I ain’t gonna stop ’til all of them drop So niggas already know they’re pissed Yeah niggas already know they’re pissed This skeng’s hot like cage Scribz’s skeng’s hot like birdie Still lurk on your block with a big 44 That’s certi And then I win suttin’ Then that skeng there turned dirty But I still kick it out there on the next day Tryna do man dirty From Letras Mania