Pop

(álbum: Most Hated Alive - 2012)

Bust shots, bust that bust shots
Bust that, bust that, bust that
Bust shots, bust that bust shots
Bust that, bust that, bust that
Bust shots, bust that bust shots
Bust that, bust that, bust that

Niggas getting
Murk, murk, murk
Grip you burn a snitch
Murk, murk, murk
Grip you burn a snitch
Murk, murk, murk
Grip you burn a snitch
Murk, murk, murk

Murk, murk, murk
Grip your bird a snitch
We let them shots fly no turbulance
I see some dark nights like Batman
Doing jokes like Chaz out of black hands
Scheeming on your block I be speeding past the cops
Thugging hard make it hard
Flashing infrared dots
Let that chopper chop to your project
Pocket rocking my pocket
Toppless pop a Chris Wallace
You and your partners gotta pay homage
Let them shells go and you know that
Gun be next to my boozak
Riding stolen cars with no lowjack
Push your weed back to you kojack
You try to lie me? you must be joking
If he ain't blood he must be loaking

Murk, murk, murk
Grip you burn a snitch
Murk, murk, murk
Grip you burn a snitch
Murk, murk, murk
Grip you burn a snitch
Murk, murk, murk

Murk, murk, murk
Grip you burn a snitch
Murk, murk, murk
Grip you burn a snitch
Murk, murk, murk
Grip you burn a snitch
Murk, murk, murk