Lyrics

Hit me, SMS Shoot his head, S.O.S Ball hog shit, fuck yo set Big ass truck, TRX Big ass gun, shit so fed ARP this shit so big Niggas exed me out, still don't know what I did My twin crazy, he might go and shoot your kid Like I'm stressed, grab my sig I'm fin dip, get off the grid Don't try to hide, we gon find you Put that .308 inside you You can't hoop, ball hogs could guide you You can't run, twin right behind you ARP, let it crank I done fell in love with drank Hi-tec, I sip wok, and red And I'm geeked, swing my dreads OD pills, we do meds He not real, that boy fled I'm like what the fuck you said, I'm like what the fuck They switched up on me like what, I can't give no fuck Twin 30's come in clutch, we might fuck you up We tryna walk that lil boy down, leave his pants on the ground Put a sock over the stick, now that shit can't make no sound She like faces why you late, bitch, I was counting cake You better watch what the fuck you say, I might just eat your face My twin come through with them drums, bussin shit like 808s All I wanna do, is get high all day Put that dot on you, you gon run away Niggas switched up on me, but that's okay Folding stock on the damn .308 Hit my phone, you got that drop we push up quick today Hit me, SMS Shoot his head, S.O.S Ball hog shit, fuck yo set Big ass truck, TRX Big ass gun, shit so fed ARP this shit so big Niggas exed me out, still don't know what I did My twin crazy, he might go and shoot your kid Like I'm stressed, grab my sig I'm fin dip, get off the grid
Writer(s): Ricky Shanklin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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