TWEAKERS (feat. Skilla Baby & Rob49)

If I'm on yo' ass, I'm on yo' ass, fuck who you know

Only the family can play wit' me, I tweak like Doodie Lo

When this shit be on the floor, they know I'ma shoot for sure

When I find out 'bout they hideout, **** better move they lo'

They can't run when we shoot, boy, I pop out wit' a smirk

Man, that lil' **** Skilla stay wit' bands like Lil' Durk

When we pop out wit' them switches, we put **** on a shirt

Them ten mill' bullets hurt, shiesty on, time to lurk

Call my .45 dirty, bitch, we gettin' **** burnt

We be spinnin' like a CD, go back, we tryna repeat

The killas know when we pull up, I'm out here yellin', 'SkeeYee'

When I yell, "Yeet, yeet," them boys know to rob sum'n

That lil' ten bag wasn't enough, you puttin' a hunnid' on lil' son

I can't say too much on wax, they know we slump shit where I'm from

Want him dead? Yeah, fuck him, we don't care 'bout who he know

762's leave a fuckboy bald-headed like Doodie Lo

Fuck wit' Skilla, that's my ****, if I catch dude, I'ma kill him

Vulture in that Trailblazer, shootin' shit like Damian Lillard

I'm that one that pressed dude, lotta' said that he ain't in it

I been in my feelings lately, I keep takin' painkillers

I ain't ever like them ****, no, I'm tryna tell you

Start wit' all that sneak-ass smoke, and we inhale it, ****

I know **** who snaked out they dog, and I don't feel it

All I want is cuz in this car, 'cause he a killa

Roll them bitches just like dank, huh

Crack house always stank, huh

Potion look like paint, huh

Codeine look like paint, ****

49, he got rank, I could pull some string in here

Real dog ****, big 49'll fuck some famous bitches

I got a 30 on my waist, he a lick, well, let's rob sum'n

We was drillin', wakin' up in the morning about 5 sum'n

Why the fuck that **** tuckin' his jewelry? 'Cause the guys comin'

I'm wit' killas, ****, ain't no security, I ain't hidin' nothin'

I put that money on his head, play wit' me, you dead

Them killas, they gon' do whatever I say like Simon Says

I'm a bald-headed rich ****, hit him in them dreads

**** did too much talkin', bitch, you sent him to the feds

In Detroit, I'm at Coney Island, posted up wit' Skilla

On the internet we don't react, folks already killed him

We done caught his goofy ass, he playin' monkey in the middle

Fuck, I think I'm kinda' rusty, I ain't spin up in a minute

He still spinnin' every day, I guess some **** never learn

I know **** super turnt, but they ain't takin' care they chirren

That ten milli' hit like Usher, she tried to let a **** burn

I be stayin' to myself, but I won't get dude hurt

Lord, I be outside late, alright

I'm tryna go catch a play, alright

You fucked who? I don't like dude, tell him stay from out the way, bitch

He a two-time felon, how you let bro catch a case?

When them **** can't be 'part of some shit, they start to hate

Johnny Manziel, I touch down and cause Hell

Yeah, big 49, big 4God

Playin' wit' a ****