Lyrics: Linderius Johnson
Music: Linderius Johnson
Baby be my murder b***h
Show me that you lay down in that cut and let that 30 hit
I been rapping in my sleep, I think that I'm too build for this
Ion think they told you but these **** n****s get kilt for diss
You caught that body and got in that room
And fold up like some pretzel sticks
(Glah glah glah glah glah)
I feel like nardo wick
Spinning back to back
Ion give a ****, they should've never started shit
Smoke pole
Make yo baby mama eat the d**k,
You know her throat sold
All these n****s trailing on the gang,
They gone get slumped over
Riding the beat like rollercoaster
See me in a Walmart
You know I got that 30 poking
Treat his head like a bag of snacks
Imma leave it open
Ruthless boy
I don't give a **** about them IG posts
Fatality
Make that lil hoe eat the d**k
That lil b***h tryna marry me
I heard I'm the biggest opp
Tell them p***ies bury me
B***h I'm with lil biggie, we leave his head swole
Like a ****ing piggy
How I'm worth some Ms when I was just down bad
With a ****ing penny
Oh you with my b***h again,
I swear imma send that blitz again
N****s know bout anti
Know that 5 be my favorite gen
(Blah blah)
Imma have lil brodie dem just rock out like some rock stars
Trackhawk with a kick
Imma snatch off on a cop car
That boy say he want smoke with me,
Imma gone and hit up baby nard
We can't get that p***y n***a, I'm in his old lady yard
Screaming **** the other side
Told y'all he ain't a real stepper,
That's how that boy lil brother died
He copped out
If we go to a show, we finna bring like every Glock out
Get his baby and put that boy in a oven like a pot pie
You got all my drops, p***y boy why you ain't pop out?
Leave the hill wet
Yeah you know we brung them mops out
Think I'm from New Orleans,
I get shit boiling like a bowl of noodles
Black truck with them tints and that stick, that's my favorite Uber
High speed
B***h I'm with big ant, we in that cat, how y'all gon stop me?
Hit her from the back, p***y wetter than some Mac and cheese
Please give me that mac 11
I keep telling these p***y n****s, Ion think I'm going to heaven
I went on drill with timbs and I left blood on them
Bury yo big homie, yeah it's time to throw some mud on him
In the ground, suppressor on my Glock no it won't make a sound
Move around
Imma spin this b***h til y'all go out of town
Miami trips
Yeah we having 40s with the 30 clips
Let it rip
Treat him like a beyblade, imma get him slipped
B***h boy
Yeah im rich as hell
You can tell by my new fit boy
Yeah you ****ed that b***h
But she still gone eat my d**k boy
If I shed a tear, tell the bro to shoot me in the head
I'm some like a deer, get to ramming shit like ****ing [?]
Y'all ain't spinning shit
Need to get back for that other hit
Treat em like some grits
Get the pot and get to stirring shit
You riding with lil anti so you better have yo 30 b***h
Leaving shit on stand by
Swear to god that I don't care bout shit
You done put my name in a song, now let's get it on
4-5 with the grip, I let it rip, that's my favorite chrome
How I'm just 17, but I got M's, finna let 'em see 'em
Oh he having smoke with the label, I wouldn't wanna be him
Time to the tracker on his car and meet his baby mama
I smoke all the opps in the city, call me baby stoner
We brung us a bag to the yo, time to roll it up
If a n***a still stealing cars, he can't **** with us
Man that shit played out, I had to b***h laid out
Tell em free lil [?], I think he got like 30 days now
She say boy you tweaking, b***h I'm geeking off this adderall
I might shoot the deacon,
I don't give a **** about praying to god
This shit out my head, I think anti is a ****ing sped
Roll them niggas up, all the opps
Yeah they ****ing dead
(Smack smack)
N***a play with me, I swear to god I get em peeled back
Bags in the loft, you can call this b***h the real shack
Come and get yo pound from me
I ain't never spinning blocks again, I'm tryna get on feet
Bet not be a set up, this on gang everything get wet up
Switch on every Glock, plus they hold a 50, don't get popped
Mama told me since I was a jit, I was popping tops
B***h I got a 30 and a switch on this exotic Glock
Yeah I'm with young menace, pull a n***a teeth like ****ing dentist
Lil b***h say she pregnant, b***h I hit you with a ****ing jimmy
They say anti chill you lit for real, but im blood man
I was at the bottom, b***h I got it out the mud man
Opps been clicking up, man I heard y'all boys then locked in
Studio all night, yeah the whole gang we clocked in
Spin boy, you know who you is
You bet not get back in that bens boy
****ed yo b***h, just like a opp, I told her I ain't yo friend whore
Yeah we riding [?]
Yeah I got that simmy tucked
Yeah I'm rich as hell, I'll spin em in a Bentley truck
Aye 2, keep having a Glock
I swear to god these n****s hate you
N***a play with me, imma pull em like a fake tooth
Step step
Put em on a counter, chop em up
B***h imma ****ing chef
Yeah the streets just like a game, you know imma whack the ref
N****s think lil anti lame, swear to god they gone meet they death
See how they pull it, swear to god that imma ****ing shoot
Man you p***y as hell n***a, who the **** is you? B***h