Bloody Hands (feat. Pressa)

Murder, murder, murder, murder, shit

Bloody, bloody, bloody, bloody, bloody

Pressa

Bloody hands, bloody feet

Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet

Louboutins lookin' like it's meant for me

I got shooters on they Wass if them **** want grief

Bloody hands, bloody feet

Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet

Louboutins lookin' like it's meant for me

I got shooters on they Wass if them **** want grief

Red heels, red sneaks

This the life every hood **** dream

There's nights that I couldn't went to sleep

But Pressa got a story of a life you won't believe

We goin' out, with a bang

You gotta spill blood if you really wanna hang

Before you leave your house you gotta always check your mag

Pressa picked up every time that phone rang

**** bitchin' up you well know what you signed up for

And I'm on my block pitchin' shit like my pitchfork

**** want smoke then we turn a **** Newport

**** ain't built from the cloth where we been torn

Ridin' in my city and you know I got my top down

Bitch I love my nina but I love how my fifth sound

Go buck wild got a glizzy it's a trey pound

When none around suh, everyting I fi-get licked down

Uh, I just sold him whip down

Uh, go and learn your wrist now

Uh, if you hustle make it count nuh

Uh, I think I need my money count

Bloody hands, bloody feet

Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet

Louboutins lookin' like it's meant for me

I got shooters on they Wass if them **** want grief

Bloody hands, bloody feet

Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet

Louboutins lookin' like it's meant for me

I got shooters on they Wass if them **** want grief

Bloody bloody, bloody money

You ain't even know what these **** do for money

**** gettin' money all a sudden all a suddy'

Fifty on his head catch him and do it for mommy

Price tags, what's your amount?

Shoot a **** dead on his block and then we out

I came from trench wars and homies fallin' out

You worried 'bout your shoes, better worry 'bout your belt

Bloody feet when I'm walkin' out a hoe

You got the right to kill just don't do it in the house

They gave my dad a L, he do push-ups in the cell

Now every move we make yeah we better make it count

1, 2, 3, 4

And she love the way I rap about her Dior's

I got plugs overseas call me senior

And I swear I'm so sick I need a kill core

I'm so for if he want war then give him what he feel for

Trigger finger so sore

Let me show you how make bloody make the billboards

I'm all about my money like my TuneCore

They won't figure out me like they Filmore

Bloody hands, bloody feet

Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet

Louboutins lookin' like it's meant for me

I got shooters on they Wass if them **** want grief

Bloody hands, bloody feet

Bloody hands, bloody hands, bloody feet

Louboutins lookin' like it's meant for me

I got shooters on they Wass if them **** want grief