Babyfxce E

Prodbyfxce
Huh, yeah Y'all know what the fuck goin' on I made this bitch too, you know? Alright First off, nigga, Fxce made the beat I'm in a BP with Tay B, a Drac' won't do a thing Breakin' all the seals up on my pape', so I can make a sleeve The reason why you can't find your lil' baby 'cause she out with me Everybody can't go, bro, you might lose some friends Broke my arm but I still ain't fuck up my sh— bitch Broke my arm and crashed the Lamb', still ain't fuck up my shootin' hand We don't allow no threats, you say that shit, you might as well do it then Only thing that's gettin' dropped is a pop Bought a hoop and trampoline for all kids that's on the block, yop Fuck the prosecutor, bro, I understand that's your job Tryna fry me for a Glock 'cause it was stick, and it had one up top, tuh And we ain't gon' talk about the other shit How you say you love me and you don't even know my government? Bullets shoot so hot, you can't even stop it with no oven mitt Fuck a XXL Break, I need the cover, bitch Salute to gang and 'nem, though, y'all deserve that If I miss my shot, I'm like G Herbo, I'ma swerve back Thirty inches all the way to her back, my lil' bitch bad Beatin' from the back until she cry, now she on my ass Pull up in a CT5, that bitch pootin' shit Letras de cancionesI get a hundred percent rights 'cause I produced this bitch, huh Call up BabyChief, we gotta do some shit Dog like baby teeth because his ass be movin' loose and shit, huh Man, y'all niggas better tighten up If you don't wanna lose your bitch, better tie her up Touch this, now he in a 'Wood, bro-bro, fire up They like, "Fxce, you hardest out, you just don't drop enough" They like, "I miss when you was independent" I'ma drop some more for y'all, just give me a minute Matter fact, I'm droppin' some tomorrow, go make sure that you listen Fishbowl, they catch you with no tint, them niggas goin' fishin', huh Pull up with them poles, but not no open-face Almost popped him, he was just tryna ask how much a open-face Huh, don't post me with that button, I got a open case The reason it's with a X 'cause I got more strikes than a bowling game If you know, you know, but if you don't, that's better Whip black, stick black, Ricks black, they all leather And you can't forget my bitches, they all pressure I'm on the South right now, I told 'em, "Come meet me at Chesters," huh I'm feelin' good, better ten, I hit that seven Give his ass the belt, don't expect no hand if he don't learn his lesson She tryna do that to me, bitch, you better impress me Get off on me, we gettin' over back, bro, this shit like checkers From Letras Mania