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Mmm I ain't mean to make you sad (Helluva made this beat, baby) I ain’t mean to make you sad But I can be yo' baby dad I ain't mean to make you sad I ain’t mean to make you sad I can be yo' baby dad I ain't mean to make you sad Be, be 'bout me Nah, for real You know how it feel You know how it deal All my niggas, they gon' kill Only hit yo' phone when I need that (For real) Please, don't tell me nothin', ain’t no feedback Only hit yo’ phone when I need that (Yeah) Please, don't tell me nothin’, ain't no feedback Never sendin' me her lo' when she get back at home That’s how a real nigga know that she don't live alone And I don't even understand the shit she goin' through But the shit went left, he went through her phone (Fuck the fire, we got grease) Letras de cancionesFuck with my children (Southside shit) Ayy We'll make your block hot, chop blow torpedo (Yeah, yeah-yeah) Catch a body, seven shots, make it even, throw three more (Yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah) I'm a killer and he know That's on Rock, on Vedo (Yeah-yeah) Pull up Watts with Greedo I guap rapido (Yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah) Rapido, real fast, I get cash (Mmm) Ayy, any state, send a bag, get on yo' ass, ayy (Mmm, pussy) Drench, drench, empty mags, make your hood sad (Mmm) Niggas snitch on interviews, I ain't doin' Vlad (Mmm) Drop a bag, get up chip, why they call you Cheeto (Yeah) Drop the big heads, I'll get rid of some people (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah) In the jail, I'm poppin' tags, got all these niggas mad (Yeah-yeah) Rob a pussy nigga in a Margiela mask California earthquake, get yo' head cracked (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah) Windy City with the blower, blow yo' shit back (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah) Choppa curl a buff nigga up like a six pack Four lines of Wock', two of 'Tuss, that's a six pack (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah) Drummer Gang, we millionaires, you never get your bitch back This is not the internet, we never do no chit-chat (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah) I don't do no talkin' in New York, always just say less All Balenciaga (Yeah), 'member I was just at Payless, yeah Burner phones got group chats, all gang threats No two opps got stretched off the same text Bitches kissin', lickin' same sex, that's insane sex Before I went and bought a Range, niggas knew about that Lex' (Uh-huh) Sixteen in that Lex' (Uh), red beams in effect (Grrt) Z06 Corvettes (Skrrt), C-Money green Rolex If they throw at us, throw back All black like Malcolm X I don't even stress if it ain't 'bout a check, fuck nigga Lot of days I got' take to the grave, you know that's stuck with us (Gang) Pull up, dump, Mossberg pump, Milwaukee Bucks hit him Ho you lovin' pull up when I tell her 'cause you nut quicker (Lame) Plus, I'm rockin' more chains than a slave like a young nigga (Swerve) Yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah) Shoot a nigga in the head, now he dead (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah) Drummer Gang, millionaires, we get bread (Shoot him in the head) I'm a real street nigga, don't do fed Any nigga that was sayin' I snitched I'll leave a nigga body in a ditch (Ayy) I'll never beef with niggas 'bout a bitch I'm a real street nigga, you a bitch Ho-ass nigga, I get dough-ass nigga You ain't never got no money out no ho-ass nigga You ain't never in the projects with no pole-ass nigga You ain't never up in them 'partments on the floor-ass nigga You ain't never made no Nigga, dough-ass nigga You ain't never made no dough-ass nigga You ain't never made no dough-ass nigga And I know that you a ho-ass nigga From Letras Mania