Lyrics

Finna run up these bodies, fuck **** (get on your grind, ShortyyK)
I'ma buy a **** or either go step on 'em
Either one, I'm coming
(Damn, Trademark!)
Aye
I could turn a bitch pretty, she won't cut into this check (into this check)
I just fucked this bitch, and she left stains on my Nike Tech (on my Nike Tech)
**** hidin', I don't got time for that, you come, I'm snatching necks (you come, I'm snatching necks)
Bitches fuck, so charge it to the game and run you up a check, ****
This bitch hurt me, almost fell in love with her (bitch)
I'ma bounce back with a new bitch anyway, let Buck hit her
Ain't no love for a scrub, baby, I'm a thug **** (thug ****)
In the club with my **** buckin', and we send slugs at 'em
I spend five thousand on some guns, they know I get shit done (get shit done)
Drop them funds, my **** bring back heads, and chase **** that run (chase **** that run)
I done blew a hunnid' thousand, wit' my **** in one month
I was spending it on dumb shit, get that bag and fuck it up
Could've been dropped a chain, could've been dropped, the Range
But what I been did was slid, most of the gang done caught a brain
I'll throw this shit away, I don't give a fuck about no fame
A **** play with me, I'm crashing, so don't say my fucking name (say my fucking name)
All these bitch ass **** playin', until they see they brother brain (see they brother brain)
That's the outcome of this shit, when you think playin' with me a game
I got aim, I say one word, and they blast, **** 'cause them shooters paid (yeah)
I send bro get on your ass, ****, 30 to his face (yeah)
Christian Loub', bloody bottoms, I got spice on my toes (bitch)
They say diamonds losin' value, so I might just keep the gold
In the trenches, wit' my ****, I get money, and buy souls
I'm wit' backstreet, my bro say hit his line if you need them bows
Bitch, I can make your dawg slime you out
**** took my brother bitch, so that's the shit I'm slidin' 'bout
I can't let it go, he gone forever, it's straight slaughterhouse
We come with automatics, man these **** done brought the reaper out
Ayy, bitch, take this dick, hoe, just keep it down (down)
Put your legs behind your head, just lay there, I'ma beat it down (down)
I ain't bust yet, I'm off this X, bitch, just turn around
Arch your back in, and call me Breezy while I dig you out (yeah)
I got bodies, I get **** found
Jump off in that water, and try dive, I bet a **** drown
Shoot this bitch for four minutes, we came wit' a hunnid' rounds (what? What? What?)
****, we do no missin', jump out gang, we run you down
I just bought a new crib, that bitch got hella space
Might just go cop me a cat, bitch, 'cause now I'm hella pai
**** steady smoking who, what? He at heaven gates
Got this ass on the Chop', it's never tired, like Kevin Gates
I been spending hella cash, these **** mad I done bossed up (bossed up)
Put my name inside your song, lil' ****, it's gon' cost ya (cost ya)
Ugh, knock em off cuh, we get **** taped up
Ridin' with my young ****, hop out, let that drac' bust
They know we stupid, we get every **** that played us (played us)
****, so I advise you keep that thing tucked
He like Nine, you banged up? Doctor got 'em flamed up?
He say he smoke Rolo pack, now that **** winged up?
Dig him up, that **** dead
Ugh, seven, six, two done hit his friend
**** still sending **** off the end (yeah)
Get a **** hit for thirty thousand
Like that, bitch
RW, ****
SRT on every Glock
Written by: Jacourey Rivers, Moritz Busch, Tyler Maline, Writer Unknown
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