[Intro]
\nCrossed 'em out, finessed his man's
\nBrought more sticks than a marching band
\nC-crossed 'em out finessed his man's
\nBrought more sticks than the marching band
\nYou let 'em around he gon' cross again
\nThe fye' grow a titty like estrogen
\n2 of my shooters, they Mexican
\nThey not BL, I might bless 'em in
\n(Ayo, DJ GREN8DE, get from around--)
\n
\n[Verse]
\nPirate whip, Lil' GL4, my cup is pyro
\nInterrogation, y'all niggas was singing, y'all niggas was hitting them high notes
\nBaby, gotta come to the spot, gotta come to the slaughter, you getting cut like a pine cone
\nBoy, your ass a bitch, ain' gon' blow that gun, what you got that nine for?
\nOh, you did? you shootin' at pedestrians, you shootin' at niggas, you shootin' with your eyes closed
\nGotta see it, but this on the 10, you not finna blow it, whoa, pass me that blindfold
\nGot that hat, know I got that ring, know I'm getting in, we left them behind, though
\nY'all know what I mean? What the fuck they did? Demons in my bid, we set them aside, whoa
\nCrossed 'em out, finessed his man's
\nBrought more sticks than the marching band
\nYou let 'em around he gon' cross again
\nThe fye' grow a titty like estrogen
\n2 of my shooters, they Mexican
\nThey not BL, I might bless 'em in
\nLocked up for a 7, deadly sins
\nBullet flyin' by they catch more than the wind
\nI got that dot, but I sent that to Penn
\nMan, this ain't yo' fye', this bitch off of Gen
\nFuck the police, I don't know about no Benz
\nV-Lone shirt, then I fucked all her friends
\nSpoiled that bitch, I put the hoe in some Skims
\nWalk in that bitch, she look just like Kim, huh (Flrrt)
\nWe can't find yo' sibling, pop his brother
\nBut don't worry about that piss test, I passed that bitch with flyin' colors
\nOld ass Glock that you got in your hand, I call that bitch Lil' Uncle Ruckus
\nLetting that money fly, you'd rather just hang with a buster
\nThis between me and him, this on God, I ain't cuffin'
\nThis on God, I ain't bluffin', talm' 'bout beef, we gon' heat that oven
\nHit him with these bloody knuckles and he couldn't get back right for nothin' (On God)
\nCatch him with that fye, he hit the feet, you know I heard him runnin'
\nYeah, I got them drugs for all them J's, OD like David Rucker
\nOkay, I peeped at the plot, there's nothin' in this world I miss more than wock
\nOn God, I won't play with no cops, he talkin' to 12, I pull out the mop
\nAnd a nigga gon' play me, try me like I'm soft, I'm breakin' the scale, I done knocked 'em off
\nTold them keep it on the low, they got the sauce
\nNiggas throwin' fast balls, Red Sox
\nNiggas don't need nothin' from you, why you feel so comfortable?
\nMan, speak up, can't hear a mumble, bro
\nThem vampires in that jungle, wood
\nWestside, I catch them, call my bluff
\nWe know where you at, you ain't layin' on nun'
\nI'm droppin' racks on 'em, them boys had some fun
\nI murdered that nigga 2, and not the 1
\n(I love DJ GREN8DE)
\n
\n[Outro]
\nWe can't find yo' sibling, pop his brother
\nBut don't worry about that piss test, I passed that bitch with flyin' colors
\nOld ass Glock that you got in your hand, I call that bitch Lil' Uncle Ruckus
\nLetting that money fly, you'd rather just hang with a buster
\nThis between me and him, this on God, I ain't cuffin'
\nThis on God, I ain't bluffin', talm' 'bout beef, we gon’ heat that oven
\nHit him with these bloody knuckles and he couldn't get back right for nothin' (On God)\n\n
