Original lyrics

EN

Smoking on the dead opp Pull to the block I'm sending dead shot Smoking on that gas We smoking on that good rock Fuck what these niggas gotta say I'm moving in my own line What y'all gonna do When we shut the whole block down? He wanted to know what we'll do to a nigga Now he hurting real bad Talking about get back But never got back You ain't bullet proof So stop the capping on the set If I ever catch a nigga He'll put his face to dirt Keep on talking I'ma blow the whole bitch down Gotta slide for gang bitch We ain't playing no game Fuck with us And it's the end of your line Don't let shit slide We keep that beam ready Holding his brother He wish he chose a different He wish chose different Kept on playing games Now you're the meeting with the grimp reaper I got bag and racks bitch I got stacks Flexing on these hoe nigga Wish you was like me So bitch stop hating That's shit getting old I ain't no brother about shit I keep real, realer than these snakes niggas I'm on a different type of timing Niggas can't fuck with me 40 to face Make a mess like a plate of spaghetti Put a bullet through a bitch nigga skull That's how heated shit get I put pressure on nigga Like I'm locking up on defense I rather take a case Than lose my life over some bullshit Bags and racks Say it back, bags and racks I move smart, I move fast Opps lurking I'll blow them Bags and racks Bags and racks Never broke, never lack Bullets hits at the strees goes boom I'm on grind that's facts All these niggas they be trippin' Actin' boke till I walk in I don't fuck with niggas Keep it 100, that's the doctrine Take your life, I don't give a fuck Budget your coffin Someone grieving at your grave Be the ones that take you off then I been movin' with the Goats Not the sheeps, or the pigs Gotta separate goats from sheeps In my barnyard Check my swag, I'm drippin', yeah I'm built for the standard You can't steal my style I'm on a mission Kick the door we don't knock We don't need no permission Bullets hit like a steal Now you see your mama is crying You want smoke, I want money Want peace with precision You ain't the type of grinding While you crash on a mission Look me in my eyes You can tell I ain't trippin' You want smoke come and get it I don't talk I just give you Bags and racks Say it back, bags and racks I move smart, I move fast Opps lurking I'll blow them Bags and racks Bags and racks Never broke, never lack Bullets hits at the strees goes boom I'm on grind that's facts