Soldier Musik

She gon' wanna fuck 'cause I'm rich and I'm famous Tell him don't trust me, I'm grimy, I'm dangerous Pull up to the set, I be hangin' with bangers I been in it all my life, ain't no stranger to danger What you niggas claimin'? Big love for the niggas that we lost, but still, we feel a pain Got a pendant wrapped in diamonds with my brother on a chain My dawg doin' time for the gang, I'd do the same I would take a risk, but instead, I'd rather hit the booth I would pop a Perc', but instead, I'd rather sip a D'USSÉ Bitch, you been out, you wasn't there, nigga, where was you? Day-ones in my circle, some gone, I only got a few You ain't smokin' 'za in your 'Wood, you can keep the boof You ain't pourin' Wock' in your cup, you can keep thе juice Man, locked in with my niggas since kids, I swеar we been true Get me a bottle and a Perc', I'm finna get loose We certified steppers, you can't step in if you ain't got no tool Might run if you got your strap, I got my strap, and Peezy got one too Yeah, let them niggas make the wrong step, we shoot, they make the news Look the bitch thought I was finna stay with her, I guess it's April Fools' Wipe that nigga nose, the bullets hit him, I think I seen him drool I had to drop a Perky in a uh, I'm in a type of mood Slidin' up in traffic, bickin' back, but I ain't never bool Ratchet-ass come in through with a back and she hella rude Said I had to catch it when she threw it back, I think she felt the tool She like, "Ain't you from the Jays?" I'm like, "Yes, sir" Said take me to the block and it's on the next turn Dead opps all in this 'Wood, I'm like, "Let it burn" Need a mansion in the hills, mama told me it's my turn Mix the uh with the uh, got me sippin' when I swerve Catch an opp, he better duck, he gettin' served I done helped a whoopty-wham seen crashed in the turf I remember all them days smokin' 80's on the Murph Man told me, don't be broke, go get the profit off the work You wanna bang BSG, you gotta pop a nigga first Like bitch, this PMB the gang, and bitch, we got it out the dirt Nigga slimy in the turf, keep a strap right where you bick it at Just left Neimans, blew a bag, but I'ma get it back Caught that nigga slippin', tagged him up, but he ain't get a pass Fire 22 out the strap, hit his neck and his back Tinted up the Benz, next month I'm paintin' it black I need a couple M's on the table when I work in the trap You ain't never seen this bustdown, but I'm bringin' it back Dickie suit with the flame belt with the chunkiest strap Tell a nigga step up in my five, then I'm talkin' him down .308'll blow a nigga heart right out of his chest We got Rugers, .9s, Glocks, TECs, and we come with the best (I'ma hit his head and hit his neck, I ain't aim for the vest)