Should've Ducked (feat. Pooh Shiesty)

D-D-D-DJ FMCT

Aye, they told me I can't be around no gang members, y'all got me fucked up, ****

I go everywhere with my killers, man

DJ Bandz, oh, man

Yeah, let's get it

Throw that mask on, when you jump out first, you better blast (Yeah)

V don't like slow shit on hits, them switches fast (Gang)

Ain't gon' lie, the city hot with strikers, they don't last (Turn up)

When you pop in with your killers, you better check your gas (Man, what?)

V don't party on other blocks, they fuck with other opps

Let's get it

Then come 'round like you gang, that got your brother shot (Brrah)

You say his name inside a song, that got your brother hot

Let's get it

Then leave him hangin' without a lawyer, that shit dumb as fuck (Pussy)

You come outside without your gun, lil' boy, you dumb as fuck

Dumb as fuck

Ain't no quick run to the store, they pop out, fire you up (Brrah)

I told my P.O. through the gate that I get high as fuck

I get high as fuck

She ask me how high do I get? I told her high as Duck (Tooka)

My brother told me get some property, I kept gettin' Glockies

Gettin' Glocks

I told him, "I only drink Wocky," he say I'm gettin' cocky

Let's get it

All them bitches wanna fuck me, I don't give 'em money

One bitch thought I told her, "Yeah," I said, "You better block me"

He survived one to the head, but it fucked up his body

You think he off a eight of red the way that **** noddin'

He don't even know 'bout drugs he say, "Lean, OxyContin"

You tryna judge him off his looks, that lil' boy actually robbin'

Man, he talkin' 'bout gang in this bitch

Why he callin', talkin' 'bout gang?

He ain't get back from that one shit, man, his gang ain't on shit

Foenem posted up outside, Dracos hanging and shit

Before he died, his ass a goofy, now he famous and shit

Brrt, brrt, brrt

I'm King Draco, got my name off drillin', check the record, bitch

Slatt, slatt, slatt, slatt

If pussy drop this song about me, he get found without his dick

Send off a bag 'bout my lil' cousin, they fakin', they'll call it quits

They made me mad enough, I spin through there myself, say the wrong shit

Might still sip when I get low, but I prefer Wock over Tris

Fucked up and let me in the door, I went fully on auto sticks

I'm Mr. Slime 'Em Out, I caught his backdoor unlocked on the lick

Or Mr. Leave No Evidence, know my criminal book hella thick (On God)

You **** goose, ain't got no gun, you went away, your ass is dumb

I'm on my sixth Moncler this winter, I couldn't wait to get some money

My lil' **** up four souls, he caught two dressed up like a junkie

They thought I was just rappin', lay that murder gang, that shit ain't funny

You lay that murder gang, them come through, that shit ain't funny

I'm locked in with hunters from the God, got killers 'round the country

I might don't need to slime 'em out, just be yourself and stay three hunnid

We get money Monday through Saturday, pray to Trey Day every Sunday

My clique tied up in the field, won't never hear me go out runnin'

Post up a pic like I'm in L.A., but the whole time I'm with gun

We ain't tryna keep hearin' 'bout that shit you did, go get active again

It's eat or get ate on my side, I'ma fuck the drops and go and spin

Three and O, we skunkin' shit, get one more kill, conceal the win

Beef with us won't never land till y'all get hit up with them pens

Can't come around unless you get a body, chopper, F&N

We caught one of them pussies drunk, he died before he dropped the Henn'

Got 'bout ten whips in my garage and still don't know what to get in

Take all the embers out the 'Cat, tint out the window 'fore I spin

Shh, brrt, tint out the window 'fore I spin, brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt