Freestyle
(专辑: Rookie Of The Year - 2021)
Off of the
Wok in a
coma We in a
rover Four in the
back with a
toaster Meiro he gripping that 30 We slapping the
stick and you do what we say, no controller I'm coming over to fuck You coming over she tell you she want you to hold 'em My niggas love to get over You got the
racks, and my niggas pull up like a
chauffeur Imma go get me a
Bentley B
B
on the
buckle, or maybe just throw on the
Fendi Niggas, they filled up with envy If you got a
problem its 50 rounds up in this semi You want to tweak I'll even call sis, and this be your last night like you Diddy It can get tricky When bullets start flying, you better get down or get with me LV be giving me powers Dust off the
belt This some jiggas got me up for hours I
just might drop me a
xanny Let it dissolve, that shit kinda taste a
lil sour I'm high, I'm up with the
towers Think that your bitch? Well nigga I
think that it's ours 30 clip shoot us a
movie Talk on the
net but don't show Nigga you is a
coward Two fake accounts getting busy Go and load up at the
bank Yeah my niggas stay with me Them bitches be bustin Two for the
twenty, but I
don't know, you seeming iffy I'm a
have K2 go zoo him for all of his racks I'm the
man so I'm thinking I'm 50 Trust me my niggas get sitchy Got me a
navy, so I
got a
Glock with a
switchy Coupe switching Where I
leave my cup I
think my Yac missing Probably left it right next to my Wok Man I
be Yac sipping Run off with the
pack and bitch it's fuck you I
be pack flipping All your racks missing K2 wiped them off, we ain't splitting Reckless in the
building Everybody stop and stare All this money Now your bitch all under me, like underwear All these fake ass fucking rappers Time to pull a
fucking chair Like y'all ain't living what y'all rapping, y'all don't even fucking care Since a
shorty we been trapping We ain't have no shit to wear Now it's Gucci on my collar But it's hate all in the
air Like when you make it out the
mud You got no choice, you gotta share Y'all weren't with me from the
jump Y'all said my music wasn't clear Groupie bitch, she hit my phone And she get blue when I
don't answer Yeah I
tote the
cig, you want some smoke, we give you cancer Exotic bowls from Carlos Only smoke exotic dancers Your bitch we ran her Kicked her out, we got no manners Late nights we was posted We was loaded with them 40 cals We got 40 down We give no zip if four gon' blow him down Copping, chasing sacks since we was jits No he ain't stopping now With Moe, he in the
back He brought the
xannies, now I'm slowing down Bitch I'm Balenci stepping uhh And I
still tote my weapon We got bullets send you to the
master, in less than a
second Pull up on his block and make him freeze We got that nigga guessing Cocking back, lil bro he get to sweating Give his ass eleven Check out, get to shredding Niggas solid, they ain't never telling I
can't get a
time out from the
money I
ain't never resting Eazzyy where you heading? To the
top While all you niggas flexing I
don't do the
texting If it's beef I
hope you catch a
blessing