[Intro]
\nAyy
\nAyy, ayy, ayy, this a cold-blooded one right here, man
\nI'ma show y’all how we steppin’
\nAnd I’ma tell you what we really on
\nBaow, baow, baow, baow
\n
\n[Verse 1]
\nDon't step in this shit if you ain't 'bout it
\nAin't no love in these streets, boy, it’s violent
\nGotta keep that pipe, don’t be lackin’
\nIf you move wrong, get hit with a ratchet
\nOn go, we don’t do all that chat shit
\nOne call, they pull up with them caskets
\nFuck the opps, they ain’t slidin’ for real
\nThey just cap on the net, they ain’t tryna get active
\nCatch his ass lackin’, he gone
\nPut a beam on the Glock, now his head blown
\nSpin back-to-back, we ain't callin’ no truce
\nIf you ridin’ with ’em, you get hit too
\nAin’t no passеs, we droppin’ locations
\nFuck a diss, we ain't into no fakin’
\nCatch a body, then back to thе basics
\nGlock with a switch, make a fuck nigga face it
\n
\n[Chorus]
\nDon't slip, don't trip, don’t fold
\nRun in your spot, make everybody get low
\nShe eat me up like she starvin’ for more
\nI bust on her face, then I’m out through the door
\nToo many guns, we ain't playin' with fists
\nYou reach for my chain, you get left in this bitch
\nBody for body, we up on the score
\nIf you ain't on shit, what you claimin' it for?
\n
\n[Verse 2]
\nTook a couple trips to the A
\nTook a couple trips to the O
\nTook a couple trips to your block
\nAin't see nobody, they know how it go
\nHundred shots, let ‘em off through the window
\nChoppa gon’ sing, it don’t play like a demo
\nFuck all that talkin’, let’s see what it’s ‘bout
\nIf he say he a shooter, we airin’ it out
\nMask up, then I creep through the back
\nNo ski, but I still keep a MAC
\nAll these niggas be tough for the ‘Gram
\nBut in real life, these niggas be rats
\nNigga, you ain't no stepper, you lyin’
\nCaught his ass, now he runnin’ for time
\nTold that hoe she ain’t fuckin’, she useless
\nGet on your knees, bitch, show me you ruthless
\n12 on my ass, had to do the dash
\nFuck all that talkin’, I’m gettin’ this cash
\nNigga get caught, he gon’ tell on the gang
\nThat’s why we don’t let fuck niggas hang
\nOps in my blunt, I’m smokin’ that strong
\nFuck your homie, he dead and he gone
\nPussy-ass niggas be movin’ too soft
\nIf we catch him, we knockin’ him off
\n
\n[Chorus]
\nDon't slip, don't trip, don’t fold
\nRun in your spot, make everybody get low
\nShe eat me up like she starvin’ for more
\nI bust on her face, then I’m out through the door
\nToo many guns, we ain't playin' with fists
\nYou reach for my chain, you get left in this bitch
\nBody for body, we up on the score
\nIf you ain't on shit, what you claimin' it for?
\n
\n[Verse 3]
\nYeah, I'm off these percs, I'm rollin’
\nHeadshot, now his ass ain't spoken
\nGlock got a dick, it’s pokin’
\nRun up, you get put in a ocean
\nFuck all that talk, let’s step
\nDrac’ got a kick, make a fuck nigga stretch
\nHollows gon’ burn through his vest
\nTry to run off, he got hit in his neck
\nRob a fuck nigga for thinkin’ he tough
\nCome to my hood, better keep that shit tucked
\nNiggas be cappin’, ain't slidin’ for real
\nHop out the whip, make a fuck nigga duck
\nHopped on the curb, put a beam on his back
\nSwitch make a nigga start runnin’ like track
\nAin't no survivors, we doubling back
\nCall up the gang, then we spinnin’ again
\n
\n[Chorus]
\nDon't slip, don't trip, don’t fold
\nRun in your spot, make everybody get low
\nShe eat me up like she starvin’ for more
\nI bust on her face, then I’m out through the door
\nToo many guns, we ain't playin' with fists
\nYou reach for my chain, you get left in this bitch
\nBody for body, we up on the score
\nIf you ain't on shit, what you claimin' it for?
\n
\n[Outro]
\nBaow, baow, baow!
\nSpin back, leave his brains on the floor
\nPussy niggas ain't slidin’, they hoez
\nFuck the opps, we up on the score\n\n
