• Tag Archives AR
  • Caskey – Purell Lyrics (feat. Doobie)

    [Chorus: Caskey]
    My chain, my wrist, my drip, too hard
    I pay, respects, my clips, AR
    I got, some head, inside, the car
    I pull, the strings, I play, guitar
    My chain, my wrist, my drip, too hard
    I step, outside, I raise, the bar
    We can’t, go back, we came, this far
    We can’t, go back, we came, this far

    [Verse 1: Caskey]
    I’m so fly that I hopped up on the jet and I had to show the pilot
    I’m gonna count the money, wash my hands twice, I don’t want no Coronavirus
    Shorty tell me that the p*ssy brand new but I already know the vibes
    I don’t ever gotta work another job but I still put in overtime (yeah)
    I put a plain jane on the wrist just to know the time
    And my homie put a red dot on your forehead, open mind
    [?] she say I hit the p*ssy too hard
    Make it look easy, I rolled me a blunt and I start gettin’ [?]
    With my eyes closed, I could twist this up
    Same way I did the pound, sold that bitch, zipped it up
    Won’t stop ’til I’m rich as f*ck
    20 chains on ain’t no missin’ us, I know why they been pissed at us

    [Chorus: Caskey]
    My chain, my wrist, my drip, too hard
    I pay, respects, my clips, AR
    I got, some head, inside, the car

    I pull, the strings, I play, guitar
    My chain, my wrist, my drip, too hard
    I step, outside, I raise, the bar
    We can’t, go back, we came, this far
    We can’t, go back, we came, this far

    [Verse 2: Doobie]
    Ayy, my shoes cost a car note, face to face with the blunt
    Like mano (ooh) y mano, that shit contagious as a f*ck
    I’m spending birds just to prove a point, big flex like I’m shootin’ ‘roids
    Doin’ drugs ’til I fall out, boy, real rockstar like Fall Out Boy
    I just went inside myself, then I opened up a spot
    Cocaine on my face, that’s how you bustdown a watch
    Get my shit before it drop, Porsche 9/11, call the cops
    And I can tell you not serious, with one look in your eyes
    Trust me, girl, I be fine
    Skrt, whip pulled up outside
    I’m riding, for mine

    [Chorus: Caskey]
    My chain, my wrist, my drip, too hard
    I pay, respects, my clips, AR
    I got, some head, inside, the car
    I pull, the strings, I play, guitar
    My chain, my wrist, my drip, too hard
    I step, outside, I raise, the bar
    We can’t, go back, we came, this far
    We can’t, go back, we came, this far


  • Yungeen Ace – Society Lyrics

    Play this song

    [Intro]
    Chin up beats, you did it again
    Menace to society where I came from (I ain’t even gon’ lie, they got me fucked up, though, ayy come here)

    [Chorus]
    Menace to society where I came from (Say where I came from)
    You out of bounds, bitch, I’ll shake somethin’ (Bitch, I’ll shake something)
    Don’t like to talk, outline his body with that chalk
    I ain’t the average rapper, bitch, I live what I talk about (I really live this shit)
    You finna drop who? We sendin’ shots, I bet I drop you
    Murder who? He thought the same, put him on the news
    You steppin’, bitch, we steppin’ too
    You screamin’ 9/11, we want smoke too, yeah (Bang)

    [Verse]
    ATK, we ’bout business, we ’bout catchin’ them bodies
    We the reason to call my side, we the reason they hiding
    Just got some brand new artillery, this AR still got bodies
    My shooter smile and catch a body, you don’t think that they gone off that molly
    You don’t think they gon’ off that flakka, them bodies drop back to back
    Stand over his ass so we ain’t gotta spin back
    Them bullets still in my body, I took that shit like a G
    Bitch, I’m a soldier in this field, man, I ain’t gon’ rest ’til you six feet deep
    Mmh, we put them bodies in a cemetery
    All out play, we call a hail mary (Come here)
    We put them bodies in a cemetery
    All out play, we call a hail mary
    They claim they ran me out my city, must be crazy as fuck
    Bitch, I’m a menace to society, bitch, you got me fucked up
    I spin that block, I dropped a Xan, that pussy nigga ain’t get up
    Rest in peace my brother Jay, he died with that FN tucked
    They laughed about that shit, then next day they come pick they mans up
    ATK move like the wind, we send them shots from like everywhere
    ATK move like the wind, we send them shots from like everywhere
    Hey, we send them shots from like everywhere
    We smoke him, we smoke them (Oh yeah)
    We spin they block, we drop him, we drop them
    He died on scene, bitch, he can’t make it to the hospital
    Ain’t no playing no in between, we kill them monkeys in the middle
    We post on opp blocks, with our blocks
    Walk up on that nigga broad day and face shot (Bang)
    He send a drop drop to my thot thot (Oh yeah)
    Send my hitter ’round the corner, make his heart stop (He right there, skrrt)
    Speaking of my thot thot, she pregnant with a nigga from the other side (Crazy bitch, I’ll step on you)
    Bitch, you gon’ die with them niggas on the other side (Bitch, you gon’ die too)
    Ain’t no monkeys in the middle, we kill niggas who play both side

    [Chorus]
    Menace to society where I came from (Say where I came from)
    You out of bounds, bitch, I’ll shake somethin’ (Bitch, I’ll shake something)
    Don’t like to talk, outline his body with that chalk
    I ain’t the average rapper, bitch, I live what I talk about (I really live this shit)
    You finna drop who? We sendin’ shots, I bet I drop you
    Murder who? He thought the same, put him on the news
    You steppin’, bitch, we steppin’ too
    You screamin’ 9/11, we want smoke too, yeah (Bang)


  • Key Glock – Bottom of the Pot Lyrics

    [Intro]
    Let the band play
    Skrrt, skrrt
    Yeah yeah, skrrt

    [Verse 1]
    Got a McLaren with the butterfly doors (Butterfly doors)
    I drop the top just to let my diamonds show (Let my diamonds show)
    What chain to put on? Eeny, meeny, miny, moe (Miny moe)
    I pull up, all the kids screamin’, “Whoa” (Whoa)
    They eyes poppin’, jaws droppin’, lookin’ like they saw a ghost
    Red dots on the chops, yeah my nigga ’nem on go
    Left a lot, hit the block, smoke some pot with my bros
    Yeah, you know I’ma get it, get it in, go get some more

    [Chorus]
    Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah
    This young nigga hot, uh
    Bottom of the pot, yeah (Yeah)
    Mister Shop-a-Lot, yeah
    I do what you not, yeah
    Pockets full of knots, yeah
    My pockets ’bout to pop
    Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah
    This young nigga hot, uh (Yeah)
    Bottom of the pot, yeah
    Mister Shop-a-Lot, yeah
    I do what you not, yeah
    Pockets full of knots, yeah
    My pockets ’bout to pop

    [Verse 2]
    It’s a bird, it’s a plane, nah, bitch, that’s Glock, yeah
    Gettin’ throat from a thot, yeah, ridin’ ’round dodgin’ cop cars
    Money long, I came far, life short, keep my AR
    Don’t drink but I slang dark, no we ain’t the same, my boy
    Playin’ in the foreign truck, AMG Benz Tonka toy
    All my cars make too much noise, you niggas lil’ bitty boys
    Hit it and you hear the horse, you know that I’m rich, of course
    Ballin’, better check the score, I’m the on these hoes adore

    [Chorus]
    Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah
    This young nigga hot, uh
    Bottom of the pot, yeah
    Mister Shop-a-Lot, yeah
    I do what you not, yeah
    Pockets full of knots, yeah
    My pockets ’bout to pop
    Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah
    This young nigga hot, uh
    Bottom of the pot, yeah
    Mister Shop-a-Lot, yeah
    I do what you not, yeah
    Pockets full of knots, yeah
    My pockets ’bout to pop

    [Outro]
    It’s a bird, it’s a plane, nah, bitch, that’s Glock
    Nah, bitch, that’s Glock, nah, bitch, that’s Glock


  • URLtv – Math Hoffa vs Dose Lyrics

    [Verse 1: J Dose]
    Listen, niggas can’t handle Dose
    Yeah I heard you handle bread, see if you can handle toast
    Hit his dome when I’m spitting the fifth
    Leave him with a spinning top without the rope and the flick of the wrist
    I’m as sick as it gets, I’m a dime with these rhymes
    You would, be aight, but you lying in ya’ lines
    Check it, I keep my mind on my mind
    If time was money then I’m Shyne in his prime
    I’m ’bout a dollar, profit’s what I work wit’
    Money’s a purpose you ain’t got it you ain’t worth it
    I [?] in order to get paid right
    You showing off and I’m giving niggas stage fright
    And when I pop then I’m robbing, get my cake right
    ‘Cause with them shells I’m on ya’ tail like brake lights
    Dose, I’m in the zone where I get it in
    Ocean get me flowing and I’m blowing like an instrument
    Serving up blow enough snow got me shivering
    Riding dolo so alone I be killing them
    Homes you could bring ya’ men
    Chrome I’m delivering
    Mossberg 5 knock bones outta ligaments
    So when it’s drama my trigger banging I’m sparking shells
    I keep a hammer for niggas thinking they hard as nails
    Got it all for sale, dishing and jaws
    Viagra with the crack, what you getting is hard
    I don’t live by the law, I’m a menace to society
    Moving bundles so I’m doing numbers like the lottery
    Soldiers on the side of me, strong what I gotta be
    AR cal slugs long as an Allen key
    Steal like [?], cut mine’s fast
    Keep a sawed-off like woodshop class
    [?] might blast, chrome to ya’ cranium
    Click-clack boom, turn his dome to a stadium
    Another bullet dissecting ya’ wig, shit
    I grip mics, hit the strip and approach a smoker
    ‘Cause I’m tryna make sales like Motorola
    And I’m getting the profit
    Keep a knot so big to the point it can’t fit in my pocket

    [Verse 1: Math Hoffa]
    I was supposed to battle T-Rex but he was scared
    But since he ain’t here…..
    This nigga look like a sucker
    A stupid motherfucker right?
    He the type to wonder why his son and his best friend look so much alike
    I never been a pussy nigga, tell me what it’s like
    Fronting like you hard, then running for ya’ fucking life
    ‘Cause when this lil’ nigga see the iron
    You gon’ see him flying down the block like deer when they see a lion
    You think he a gangster? I got some fucking news
    Only thing he squeeze is his feet in his little brother’s shoes
    I’m a Brooklyn nigga, no work then we go to rob
    ‘Cause I can get a gun way faster than I can get a job
    You talking hard dog I hope you really ’bout this shit
    ‘Cause where I’m from we grab chains and try to punch you out the shit
    And we’ll be gone ‘fore you touch the floor
    And if ya’ chain’s fake, we find you and fuck you up some more
    This rap shit, ain’t no competitors
    This nigga’s just prey I’m the predator
    I’m better than you, I be the best ‘fore I D-I-E
    I got one ghostwriter nigga, B.I.G
    See I’m possessed with this
    Last engineer I did a session wit’
    Tried to lock me up in the booth and call a exorcist
    Any beat young Brooklyn a’ work off
    I’m hungrier than Snoop would look with his shirt off
    It’s two types of niggas in life
    The niggas that find bitches and fuck ’em
    And the niggas that-


  • N.E.R.D – Kites lyrics

    Pt. I

    [Intro: Chad Hugo]
    Yeah
    On my young niggas, on my done nigga
    Yeah
    Woo!
    Yeah
    On my young one, on my done one
    One time!
    Woo!

    [Chorus: M.I.A.]
    Ay, oh-ay, ay-ay-ah
    Ay, oh-ay, ay-ay-ah
    Ay, oh-ay, ay-ay-ah
    Ay, oh-ay, ay-ay-ah
    Ay, location device
    Ay, my love is [?]
    Ay, we with ceiling lights
    Ay, sipping from the kite

    [Verse 1: Pharrell]
    We in love with the rally, but they had to have the clothes
    Tonight we unified society, all my sisters and my bros
    And guess the wind, they gon’ shoot us
    Regardless which way it blows
    In the moon like Apollos
    Kites like UFOs
    Nigga hold a door (hold a door, hold a door, hold a door)
    What you tryna’ to close it for? (close it for, close it for, close it for)
    Nigga hold a door (hold a door, hold a door, hold a door)
    There’s room for some many more (many more, many more, many more)

    Pt. II

    [Verse 2: Pharrell]
    Wake up in the morning, don’t know if you’re gonna blah!
    When we do the [?] til’ it’s done
    Everybody needs friends, okay
    [?] you know you need to blah!
    If you want to shine way up!
    If you want to shine way up!
    Way, way, way up!
    If you want to bring the day up

    [Verse 3: Kendrick Lamar, Pharrell & both]
    Kites on my radar, life in my palms
    We unite through the chaos (only for the purist)
    Tell them to obey ours
    My cerebellum threw a rebellion from AR’s (room for the bull stick)
    The day I have a J.R., I tell him the worth of God only, and quit his day job (motherf*ck the bullsh*t)
    Radio never play ours
    This revolution ain’t televised with prayer
    Jumping over borders
    Ain’t no ruler for restrictions
    Ain’t no police to deport us
    Ain’t no summers for our sons
    Ain’t no dealings for our daughters
    Every prosecution hung, save the verdict for the lawyers
    Illuminate the corner, I celebrate humanity scream back at me in the morning
    Every field in Mississippi, every street in California
    Know the devil was alive, it’s the time to be anointed
    Truck into a stream, disconnected to a dream
    Head bussin’, hittin’ nothing, even if I gotta bleed
    Sitting waiting patient for a universal pain
    Politicking was the nation, this is big as you and me huh?
    I let you fly my contacts, okay
    Tryna send us off on combat, no way
    Waking up the spirit it’s on every human being
    If you with us, then you scream, so one day you can shout way out
    Me, I am way up

    [Bridge: Pharrell & M.I.A.]
    Way, way, way up
    Hey, hey
    Bring the f*cking crayon
    Hey, hey

    [Verse 4: M.I.A.]
    The girls in here are the humblest
    We drink out our plastic tumblers
    While you see us on Tumblr’s
    We wave at each other [?]
    They don’t wanna get down with foreigners
    Say “hey, you”, you won’t admire us
    [?], they curious
    I wanna get high cause I’m curious
    I’m serious, I hope you are feeling us
    I’m paying all these with [?]
    With mobiles are running delirious
    It’s our dream, it’s out of radius
    I’m letting off kites over barriers

    [Refrain: M.I.A.]
    I’m letting off kites over barriers
    I’m letting off kites over barriers
    I’m letting off kites over barriers
    I’m letting off kites over barriers

    Pt. III

    [Outro: Chad Hugo]
    They give us so many more
    Hey!


  • YBN Nahmir – Bail Out

    [Hook]
    We come to your block and we air it out
    Yellin’ free all my niggas, just let ’em out
    30 clip hit a nigga for standing out
    We finessin’ the plug and we bailin’ out
    We come to your block and we air it out
    Yellin’ free all my niggas, just let ’em out
    30 clip hit a nigga for standing out
    We finessin’ the plug now we bailin’ out
    We bail out, whoa
    We bail out, gang
    We bail out, whoa
    We bail out
    We come to your block and we air it out
    Yellin’ free all my niggas, just let ’em out
    30 clip hit a nigga for standing out
    We finessin’ the plug now we bailin’ out

    [Verse]
    Bitch you know I got guala
    Stackin’ these chips, I be gettin’ these commas
    Choppers hit ’em and they partners
    Fuck they mama right in front of they father
    AR bullets hit a nigga
    My niggas really pullin’ triggers
    We pop out the cut and we sendin’ them shots
    No we not talkin’ to niggas
    Bitch I’m the shit, I cannot be no dummy
    I’m fuckin’ yo’ bitch while I’m gettin’ this money
    Stacked up, and that clip it hold forty
    I’m sendin’ them shots if you caliin’ me shorty
    FN, it came with a 30
    If you try me nigga, I’mma do you dirty
    Curb service, and I shoot like Curry
    And the bullets rippin’ through a nigga jersey
    All about commas, we with the drama
    Boy, we be ridin’ Impalas
    You slide to the ville, you gettin’ yo’ haircut, my broski, he hit at yo’ barber
    Cuffin’ these bitches, boy you be [?], know that lil’ bitch she got mileage
    R.I.P. Valley, we so turnt up, all of my niggas be wildin’
    Keep it a stack for you niggas, who fraudin’ and flexin’ and lying in raps
    Not from the trenches, roaches and rats, boy they be bigger than cats
    No we not fightin’ you niggas, we pullin’ with choppers and ARs and MACs
    Yellin’ free Frank, we turnt up lil’ nigga, until that lil’ nigga get back

    [Hook]
    We come to your block and we air it out
    Yellin’ free all my niggas, just let ’em out
    30 clip hit a nigga for standing out
    We finessin’ the plug and we bailin’ out
    We come to your block and we air it out
    Yellin’ free all my niggas, just let ’em out
    30 clip hit a nigga for standing out
    We finessin’ the plug now we bailin’ out
    We bail out, whoa
    We bail out, gang
    We bail out, whoa
    We bail out
    We come to your block and we air it out
    Yellin’ free all my niggas, just let ’em out
    30 clip hit a nigga for standing out
    We finessin’ the plug now we bailin’ out


  • Chief Keef – Text

    [Intro]
    SOSA BABY..

    [Hook]
    Runnin’ up that sack
    Smokin’ on this dope; also known as pack
    And we got them gats, we won’t cut no slack
    In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin’ facts
    I’m all about a stack
    Big ass blunts of thracks, & that be the OG, just to be exact
    She like how I flex, so she want some sex
    I don’t wanna talk
    She don’t wanna text

    [Verse 1]
    Please don’t cross the gun line, gon’ cost you your sunshine
    And I got the D-line lookin’ like a lunch line
    And today is payday, so you know it’s crunch time
    Got my AR with me, that’s my lil sunshine
    Pour that codeine up, it’s bout that get drunk time
    You gon catch your deer, Imma go and hunt mine
    Got the utensils bitch I got the supplies
    Y’all my shorties so, when you see me say "What up Dad!"
    Ain’t’ no puff, puff-pass, Boa I had a rough past
    In the second grade I had a BB in my lunch bag
    You know the streets is [?] Get stuck like a thumb tac
    Foe nem took yo choppa from you, come and getcho drum back

    [Verse 2]
    Ima pour this pint up in some lemon lime
    You can get yo shit split, fuckin’ wit me n the guys
    Mobbin with some big shit, don’t pay us no mind
    Hit you wit’ some big hits, won’t take us no time
    Your bitch want this big dick, she not even fine
    Pockets be on be big bitch, I’m not even lyin’
    This shit is off the fuckin dome, I’m not even tryin’
    It ain’t hard to get up wit’ me, I’m not even hidin’
    Bwoy that old ass Benz, you not even slidin’
    Hit yo’ bitch from the back, she gone let me have it
    Bitch I’m all about the dollas like I play with Dallas
    Turn this shit malfunction, texting me could get tragedy
    BANG
    This shit is crazy..
    I’m a 90’s baby, I know nothin’ bout the 80’s
    Hit you from Atlanta, take a L, look like McGrady
    We was really warrin’, I looked up and God just saved me

    [Hook]
    Runnin’ up that sack
    Smokin’ on this dope; also known as pack
    And we got them gats, we won’t cut no slack
    In these Fendi slacks, I be speakin’ facts
    I’m all about a stack
    Big ass blunts of thracks; & that be the O.G. just to be exact
    She like how I flex, so she want some sex
    I don’t wanna talk
    She don’t wanna text

    BANG!


  • 21 Savage – All The Smoke

    [Intro]
    Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah
    Yeah, yeah, yeah
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
    Woah, yeah, woah, woah, yeah
    Woah, woah, woah, woah
    Woah, yeah, woah, yeah
    Woah, yeah, woah, yeah
    Woah, yeah, woah, yeah
    W-woah, woah, woah, yeah
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
    Yeah, yeah, yeah, 21
    Yeah, 21

    [Verse 1]
    Dropped out of school (21)
    Went and bought a tool (tool)
    Got a deuce deuce (what?)
    Time to act a fool (yeah)
    Sellin’ 2 for 5s (yeah)
    Right on Central Drive (yeah)
    You can ask my mama
    I ain’t gotta tell no lies (yeah)
    Wanna snort a line (yeah)
    Savage got them lines (yeah)
    Yeah them niggas used to rap
    But I jumped the line (21)
    I listened to your mixtape, that shit was wack (shit was wack)
    Studio time, you need to get your money back (On God)
    Back in the day I let my uncle cook my crack (cook my crack)
    Back in the day I would have took that nigga’s pack (took the pack)
    Fast forward, still walk ’round with a strap (21, 21)
    Gotta keep that pistol on me, that’s at all times (all times)
    Gotta keep a yappa on me, I got all kinds (21)
    Room full of bad bitches and they’re all mine (yeah)
    Room full of bad bitches and they’re all dimes (21)
    In a breakdown trap servin’ all dimes, yeah

    [Chorus]
    Burglar-bar doors, burglar-bar doors, yeah, yeah
    Water on the stove, water on the stove, yeah yeah
    Watch me whip a O, watch me whip a O (21, 21)
    We want all the smoke, we want all the smoke (21, 21)
    D-R-A-C-O, D-R-A-C-O (Draco, Draco)
    Shoot ’em in the face, shoot ’em in the nose (21, 21)
    I paid my lawyer dope, he played with his nose (yeah, yeah)
    AR with the scope, nigga don’t get close (woah, woah)

    [Verse 2]
    Trash bag full of mid-grade (mid-grade)
    I’m cuttin’ throat, nigga, switchblade (switchblade)
    She sucked my dick so long she caught a lip ache (a lip ache)
    New car drop, I’m on the list, wait (wait list)
    I’m on the wait list, 21, and I weight lift (yeah)
    Drop a brick off to you, that’s a weight lift (yeah)
    Drop the stick off to you, give you a whole clip (yeah)
    Closed casket, nigga, I’m a bastard (21)
    Ask around the 6, nigga we get drastic (drastic)
    Glenwood Road, killin’ like Jurassic (Park)
    I see dead bodies like I’m on acid (21)
    She fuck me good like she tryna get her ass did (yeah)

    [Chorus]
    Burglar-bar doors, burglar-bar doors (yeah, yeah)
    Water on the stove, water on the stove (yeah yeah)
    Watch me whip a O, watch me whip a O (21, 21)
    We want all the smoke, we want all the smoke (21, 21)
    D-R-A-C-O, D-R-A-C-O (Draco, Draco)
    Shoot ’em in the face, shoot ’em in the nose (21, 21)
    I paid my lawyer dope, he played with his nose (yeah, yeah)}
    AR with the scope, nigga don’t get close (woah, woah)


  • YFN Lucci – Ammunition (feat. Trae Pound)

    [Hook: YFN Trae Pound & YFN Lucci]
    Ok you know I’m with it
    On every mission you know we ain’t missing, yeah
    And you know we having ammunition
    Know my finger itching
    Know I keep that pistol on me like it’s a tradition
    I swear we barely had a pot to piss in
    We were barely living
    We were tryna get it
    Anybody get it
    Yeah, now we havin’ a whole lot of ammunition, yeah
    Now we having a whole lot of hammers with me, yeah

    [Verse 1: YFN Trae Pound]
    Ok that draco with that drum will leave a nigga numb, huh
    Hundred rounds get it done, all kinds of guns, huh
    Like a pawn shop, thought I was with Jada way my trunk rocked up
    Big called, cook it up, he say it’s all locked up
    All heavy artillery, very high up at the embassy
    The paralyzed feeling me
    Who is he? Pound a fly nigga in town
    Play ‘round with me at 12, by 3 he was found
    Two two three take a tree down, we smoke a tree down
    Let your bitch catch my kids, yeah that’s a rebound
    Caught her on the rebound

    [Verse 2: YFN Lucci]
    Might smoke a pound with Pound
    A hundred rounds out of town
    Like fifty thou for my crown
    I told him boy better not play some’
    Get your face done
    All black, looking like Akon
    With more than eight guns
    Said these bullets bigger than [?]
    Living wet as a pond
    Pull out that problem, give ‘em something to hate on
    My nigga better to beat the trial yeah, they gon’ hate on ‘em
    And if I want you dead I get my boys to lay on ‘em
    Where I come from niggas got a lot of hunger
    If you got it they gon’ want you
    So you gotta keep it on you

    [Hook: YFN Trae Pound & YFN Lucci]
    Ok you know I’m with it
    On every mission you know we ain’t missing, yeah
    And you know we having ammunition
    Know my finger itching
    Know I keep that pistol on me like it’s a tradition
    I swear we barely had a pot to piss in
    We were barely living
    We were tryna get it
    Anybody get it
    Yeah, now we havin’ a whole lot of ammunition, yeah
    Now we having a whole lot of hammers with me, yeah

    [Verse 3: YFN Lucci & YFN Trae Pound]
    Drum, draco holding a drum
    Nigga we got plenty drums
    Two two three got drums nigga
    We pull up with drums, where you from nigga?
    Yeah if you ain’t from ‘round here you better not come nigga, yeah
    Balmain with them shines in ‘em
    Know we riding with ‘em
    Probably never ride rental, only if we slidin’ in ‘em, yeah
    We got so many Glocks, three fifty-seven blocks
    Three fifty-seven pops, and everybody drops
    You already know what’s happening ho
    Pull up with like twenty MACS like we robbed the Apple Store
    Fill a nigga up with the pump like we in Amoco
    Rapper of the year, slayin’ trapper of the year
    I get that pack, it disappear
    See this the fastest one right here
    And I don’t like to front, but yeah my engine in the rear
    If I get mentioned in you killed
    Big fence around the crib, I got your pension in my ear
    Keep your distance, I don’t feel ya
    Aye Pound got that AR, and that R8
    Know I’m in that I8 with that 308, don’t violate
    Broad day, shootout broad day
    We can go all day
    I go to sleep, wake up the same way

    [Hook: YFN Trae Pound & YFN Lucci]
    Ok you know I’m with it
    On every mission you know we ain’t missing, yeah
    And you know we having ammunition
    Know my finger itching
    Know I keep that pistol on me like it’s a tradition
    I swear we barely had a pot to piss in
    We were barely living
    We were tryna get it
    Anybody get it
    Yeah, now we havin’ a whole lot of ammunition, yeah
    Now we having a whole lot of hammers with me, yeah

    [Outro: YFN Lucci]
    Drum, draco holding a drum
    Nigga we got plenty drums
    Two two three got drums nigga
    We pull up with drums, where you from nigga?
    We pull up with drums, where you from nigga?


  • Run The Jewels – Everybody Stay Calm (Run The Jewels 3 Album)

    [Intro]
    Take it easy

    [Verse 1: El-P]
    Excusez-moi bitches
    I’m lit from the last of the gas, Mike twisted
    No sleep for the vicious, key up a cop car just to see mischief
    I’m a nut punch wizard
    Speed bag ya’ ball bag leave none in it
    We, we got one ambition
    Re-up and puff til the month go missing

    [Verse 2: Killer Mike]
    Big, big, big black fellow with a four-fifth in the back, backpack fella
    I, I rumble don’t stumble young fellow
    Got a stinger in the ’69 bumblebee yellow
    I mean, I mean stunner, big titty bank teller had my wife here with her so a hater can’t tell her
    Presidential suite, got a fuck boy jealous
    I’m the Nelson Mandela of Atlanta dope sellers

    [Verse 3: El-P and Killer Mike]
    I, I’m a goddamn savage
    Eat with no hands I don’t even use napkins
    Mark says number one bastard, show up in jorts with a hatchet laughing
    Hey El, the AR’s an option for any asshole wanna talk and pop shit
    Quit playing pussy or the pistol will pop off
    And get your whole face pushed back or knocked off

    [Hook]
    Take it easy partner
    Ain’t no chilling in the land of the villains
    Ain’t no chilling, ain’t no chilling

    [Verse 4: El-P]
    They fucked up and paid us, made us dangerous
    Too old to change, I’ma stay with paper
    Poor folk love us the rich hate our faces
    We talk too loud, won’t remain in our places
    Smoke by the acre, a brain escapist
    Smoke anymore and my brain is vapor
    I don’t do meek anymore, guy, save it
    The laughing is done now, time to cry later

    [Verse 5: Killer Mike]
    Tell them haters and bitches we bang big shit, but yeah you should mind your business
    You can’t pause or shun this, physical fitness, bitch we run this
    Paraplegics, you don’t run shit, fuck you even, get the gumption
    Think you stylin’, think you stuntin’
    I’ll smack the fuck out ya’ ass for frontin’
    That seems a little aggressive

    [Verse 6: El-P]
    Oompa-loompas, I’ll shoot a tune atcha medullas
    I’m cool as a rule but I’ll scalp a ruler
    I’m new to this town, I’m a stranger passing
    I see your bum crews, I don’t get the hoopla
    (The world got rules they say) That’s a rumour
    Benign, nah I’m lying it’s a tumour
    They ain’t even tryna’ buy that we cryin’ goobye
    We got dying to do, dude, the design’s ruthless

    [Verse 7: Killer Mike]
    One-two, one-two
    I done read books by Sun-Tzu
    Learned from beautiful women who rolled my joints too
    The opposite of humble and my swag on kung-fu
    No admission for the cool, I just kick it and come through
    Hurry up we got liquor to run through
    Bales to inhale, lies to not tell
    She told me let her go and then I can exhale
    I left her with a pound of dro and a Nextel

    [Hook]
    Take it easy, partner
    Ain’t no chilling in the land of the villains
    Ain’t no chilling, ain’t no chilling


  • Future – How It Feel

    [Intro]
    I told her Mike know what I’m sayin’
    Came from nothing, tired of doing interviews
    Cause they don’t be asking me the real shit
    How a nigga really feel

    [Verse 1]
    I taught the bitch how to steal, how to steal
    I taught the bitch how to steal
    Then I put blunt on the wheel
    I took the hoes outta soho, then put them in Manolo
    Told her do not fuck with bozos
    Now you fuck with boss on the low low
    I had a bitch on the side then I gave that bitch some pride
    I told her come through tonight, then put her on a flight
    I took you out of apartments, then I put you in the condo
    I had you off in the trap room, you was the one in the bando
    You didn’t abandon a nigga, you stayed down for the kid
    Now I gave you where to live, now you pull up in the lear
    I went to Two door to four door
    Went from a Two door to four door
    From four door to two door
    Back in the coupe
    Nigga I Ball like I hoop, shit
    [Hook]
    Ask me how it feel your bitch fuck another bitch
    Ask me how it feel when you smashin’ all this G shit
    Ask me how it feel to smash just to this R&B shit
    Ask me how it feel when we thought you wouldn’t be shit
    Ask me how it feel, Ask me Ask me how it feel
    Ask me how it feel, Ask me Ask me how it feel
    Ask me how it feel when you smash this R&B shit
    Ask me how it feel to have your bitch eat another bitch

    [Verse 2]
    I blow the weed on you bitch
    Bitches ain’t worth shit to me
    The kush is worth more than you
    Took the bitch out the hood
    I told the bitch she a thot
    I bought the bitch a new condo, I put her in a new spot
    She know my dope on the scale
    She know I travel the word
    I know the Migo the LA the Reid I know Jimmy and Reid
    We know the drake from the mike
    I went from mike to young metro
    I go from Metro to Mike and I’m back with Young Will
    You know how it petro
    Told em we back goin’ ape, nigga we smokin’ some grape
    Nigga went straight from the A, now we back in LA
    Went straight to hills, we just got time to build
    Money on money on M’s
    A M on a M, thats a film, shit

    [Hook]
    Ask me how it feel your bitch fuck another bitch
    Ask me how it feel when you smashin’ all this G shit
    Ask me how it feel to smash just to this R&B shit
    Ask me how it feel when we thought you wouldn’t be shit
    Ask me how it feel, Ask me Ask me how it feel
    Ask me how it feel, Ask me Ask me how it feel
    Ask me how it feel when you smash this R&B shit
    Ask me how it feel to have your bitch eat another bitch

    [Verse 3]
    I got a AR the Chopper
    A chopper The FN, the 40
    The 40 the eagle and a 30
    The .38 bust you so ugly
    They chargin’ a sixty to walk
    I’m chargin’ em 70 to talk
    I went from the trenches to cool
    A mill ain’t enough for my crew
    I put a brick on a brick
    Then I put bricks on my wrist
    I put a brick on my chain
    Then I fucked up the game
    After I fucked up the game
    Went and bought me some cocaine
    Cocaine it right on my neck
    And that shit come with a Tec
    And that shit come with a house
    What all the hate is about
    I put the hate with the hate
    Then I got snakes on a snake
    I told Mike Will get a M
    We gon’ put this shit on film
    Then I jumped right on a M
    Then I put C on a B
    I put a B on a C

    [Hook]
    Ask me how it feel your bitch fuck another bitch
    Ask me how it feel when you smashin’ all this G shit
    Ask me how it feel to smash just to this R&B shit
    Ask me how it feel when we thought you wouldn’t be shit
    Ask me how it feel, Ask me Ask me how it feel
    Ask me how it feel, Ask me Ask me how it feel
    Ask me how it feel when you smash this R&B shit
    Ask me how it feel to have your bitch eat another bitch

    [Outro]
    I turn up all of these bitches
    I could buy all of you bitches
    I could buy all of you bitches
    I made it you bitch
    I made you bitch
    Bitch you was never for me
    I gave you fame on a grail
    I put you back on the charts
    I gave you number 1 spot
    Fuck you bitch I could buy you all
    Fuck all you bitches, you shit to me
    Fuck all you bitches you know young future
    And Mike will made made history, we gave you bitches some hits
    We told you bitches ain’t shit
    I gave your bitch a number 1, then I gave your bitch the dick
    Fuck all you hoes on a hoe
    I gave a bitch to another nigga
    I go buy another car
    I go buy another house
    I go and get me some better mouth
    I go and buy me some better mouth


  • Nov 7, Alkaline Ricochet Lyrics

    Intro

    2016
    Wall Street
    Common…

    Hear me nuh
    Hear me nuh
    Idecash
    Dj Frass
    Yo Rappa!
    Well, well, well

    Chorus
    Bwoy step out inna di war and flop himself
    A try shoot ’round corner and end up shot himself
    Ricochet off of the wall and knock him flat, him fell
    Fu#king fool…
    Bwoy go run down the war and bait up him friends
    Bait up him family, bait up him endz
    I couldn’t tell you say I sorry fi none of them
    (Mi nuh sorry fi none of them)

    Verse 1
    You a hear me?
    Bushmaster just a fire like a rocket
    Spliff kotch inna mi mouth, mi have the AR and a clap it
    Bere man a chatty too, hope dem have badness fi back it
    Cyan catch quako, catch him shirt or him jacket
    A coulda over Wendy’s, mi a go knock it
    Nuh haffi lef’ mi car, just crack the window and slap it
    The “9X” weh dem a sing inna song, mi got it
    Look like one of me phone, coulda pass fi one of mi gadget
    Nuh bring no war to me if you nuh plan fi go hot it
    Nah go take nuh talk, nobody cyan call me fi squash it
    We know you short of gun, ‘member them snatch it
    Cold up now
    No current, none in di socket

    Hook
    Mi buy mi own gun, how me fi panic?
    This a carry 30, with a scope so me can track it
    If it catch anywhere pon your bone it a go crack it
    Fire 5 inna your chest, hold down your hand, it cyan go block it

    Chorus
    Bwoy step out inna di war and flop himself
    A try shoot ’round corner and end up shot himself
    Ricochet off of the wall and knock him flat, him fell
    Fu#king fool…
    Bwoy go run down the war and bait up him friends
    Bait up him family, bait up him endz
    I couldn’t tell you say I sorry fi none of them
    (Fi none of them)

    Verse 2
    Then wait deh!
    How come nobody nah talk?
    Tap him pon
    him shoulder deh, tell him him fall off
    Shouldn’t shoob your head through the rail, shot a take it

    all off (yeah!)
    20-16 show the pusi them we nah laugh! (Straight!)
    Look how me creep up pon them neat, like say mi cyan walk
    Them and themselves, you cyan go see him, because the car dark
    Lef’ them a bleed out of them car inna di car park
    Ackee Walk ready and a wait fi the war start
    Nuh have no license fi dem yah, but that cyan stop me
    Haffi roll like how mi roll because them nah drop me
    Them wouldn’t mind me get a sentence fi them laugh at me
    Join the line, a nuh dem alone waan clap we
    Novice!

    Hook
    Buy mi own gun, how me fi panic? (How mi fi panic?)
    This a carry 30, with a scope so me can track it
    If it catch anywhere pon your bone it a go crack it
    Fire 5 inna your chest, hold down your hand, it cyan go block it

    Chorus
    Go run down di war and flop himself
    A try shoot ’round corner and end up shot himself
    Ricochet off of the wall and knock him flat, him fell
    (Wha’ you call that?)
    A fu#king fool…
    Bwoy step out inna the war and bait up him friends (believe me!)
    Bait up family, bait up him endz
    “Spin ’round di car, mi nuh business, I goin’ murder dem!”

    Verse 3
    Wait…
    Then how him still a say a fi him place?
    (Fi him place wha’?)
    Them paint out fi him face!
    Shot full him up, da body deh haffi go cremate
    Put them to sleep, and make the scheme wake
    Wha’ dem have fi show?
    Dem lose it and nuh know
    Take ‘way him phone, him only bad in front of video
    Mi go shot up the widow, family a go with you
    See say you a look a strength, that’s why me answer you

    Chorus
    Bwoy step out inna di war and flop himself
    A try shoot ’round corner and end up shot himself
    Ricochet off of the wall and knock him flat, him fell
    Fu#king fool…
    Bwoy go run down the war and bait up him friends
    Bait up family, bait up him endz
    “Spin ’round di car, mi nuh business, I goin’ murder dem!”


  • Lil Durk – Shooters Lyrics

    [Intro]
    Stuntman, woah, woah

    [Hook: Antt Beatz]
    Nigga I just bought a chopstick, no Benihanas
    And I got that AR, so where the drummer
    Got an old ass Tommy gun that got bodies on it
    Come get me nigga, I don’t worry, no I keep it coming

    [Verse 1: Snap Dogg]
    Niggas swear that they shooters, ain’t shot shit
    Ask about me, they gon’ tell you that I drop shit
    When Glock clips on hot shit, really hit your top bitch
    I can put this chopper down drop quick
    Y’all be beefing over pussy nigga?
    I swear y’all some pussy niggas
    On weak shit, beef shit
    Y’all ain’t with that street shit
    I shot up your whole body, closed casket, y’all can’t see shit
    (Shit there goes Snap Dogg)
    That’s an opp nigga
    That’s my chop nigga
    I’m really with the shit, do your homework
    Coulda put my niggas on you but I do my own dirt

    [Hook: Antt Beatz]
    Nigga I just bought a chopstick, no Benihanas
    And I got that AR, so where the drummer
    Got an old ass Tommy gun that got bodies on it
    Come get me nigga, I don’t worry, no I keep it coming

    [Bridge: Snap Dogg]
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    It was them got the shooters, we ain’t (?)

    [Verse 2: Lil Durk]
    Game is water, stand in them trenches with .45s raining
    Show money go up to 50, them niggas can’t be jaded
    Red light, green light, catch you at red at night my city dangerous
    Cause your life, you cool, but when you’re dead niggas make you famous
    Homicide been looking for me, riding around with my bitch
    There go Durk, let’s get him, (?) cops and (?)
    Hit that Smith and tell these rappers diss ’em
    Swish ’em, catch ’em, blick ’em
    Instagram and Snapchat might be the calls of the victims
    I don’t need to shoot, I know my brothers got me
    I got Rugers, Macs, .40s, 90s, wooden Dracos with the handle
    Fuck a rumor nigga, ask me for the truth
    And I’m talking (?) street, (?) I got the juice

    [Hook: Antt Beatz]
    Nigga I just bought a chopstick, no Benihanas
    And I got that AR, so where the drummer
    Got an old ass Tommy gun that got bodies on it
    Come get me nigga, I don’t worry, no I keep it coming

    [Bridge: Snap Dogg]
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    It was them got the shooters, we ain’t (?)


  • Lil Durk – Shooters (feat. Snap Dogg & Antt Beatz)

    [Intro]
    Stuntman, woah, woah

    [Hook: Antt Beatz]
    Nigga I just bought a chopstick, no Benihanas
    And I got that AR, so where the drummer
    Got an old ass Tommy gun that got bodies on it
    Come get me nigga, I don’t worry, no I keep it coming

    [Verse 1: Snap Dogg]
    Niggas swear that they shooters, ain’t shot shit
    Ask about me, they gon’ tell you that I drop shit
    When Glock clips on hot shit, really hit your top bitch
    I can put this chopper down drop quick
    Y’all be beefing over pussy nigga?
    I swear y’all some pussy niggas
    On weak shit, beef shit
    Y’all ain’t with that street shit
    I shot up your whole body, closed casket, y’all can’t see shit
    (Shit there goes Snap Dogg)
    That’s an opp nigga
    That’s my chop nigga
    I’m really with the shit, do your homework
    Coulda put my niggas on you but I do my own dirt

    [Hook: Antt Beatz]
    Nigga I just bought a chopstick, no Benihanas
    And I got that AR, so where the drummer
    Got an old ass Tommy gun that got bodies on it
    Come get me nigga, I don’t worry, no I keep it coming

    [Bridge: Snap Dogg]
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    It was them got the shooters, we ain’t (?)

    [Verse 2: Lil Durk]
    Game is water, stand in them trenches with .45s raining
    Show money go up to 50, them niggas can’t be jaded
    Red light, green light, catch you at red at night my city dangerous
    Cause your life, you cool, but when you’re dead niggas make you famous
    Homicide been looking for me, riding around with my bitch
    There go Durk, let’s get him, (?) cops and (?)
    Hit that Smith and tell these rappers diss ’em
    Swish ’em, catch ’em, blick ’em
    Instagram and Snapchat might be the calls of the victims
    I don’t need to shoot, I know my brothers got me
    I got Rugers, Macs, .40s, 90s, wooden Dracos with the handle
    Fuck a rumor nigga, ask me for the truth
    And I’m talking (?) street, (?) I got the juice

    [Hook: Antt Beatz]
    Nigga I just bought a chopstick, no Benihanas
    And I got that AR, so where the drummer
    Got an old ass Tommy gun that got bodies on it
    Come get me nigga, I don’t worry, no I keep it coming

    [Bridge: Snap Dogg]
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    I don’t need no shooter, I’m my own shooter
    It was them got the shooters, we ain’t (?)


  • Schoolboy Q – Dope Dealer (feat. E-40)

    I got a sack of blue faces but my AR black
    I got two bitches in my whip and they got hold my strap
    I put the knife to the coca leaf and turn that crack
    I put the nine to your coconut and pull that back
    I see that motherfucker shinin’ snatch your whole damn throat
    I got a strike in every pocket of my old ass coat
    I use to fly around your city nigga no ID
    I get a half and I’mma flip it gotta go OT

    I think somebody getting bodied on the weekday, get out the way
    I’m in my new clothes, now drop it for me for a bankroll
    I’m lookin’ like a motherfuckin’ dope dealer nigga
    Where the hoes where the blow I’m just a dope dealer nigga
    Paper in the paper bag I’m a dope dealer nigga
    Bitch to beat his ass I’m a dope dealer nigga
    Fuck your homies and the police I’mma dope dealer nigga
    Couple diamonds in my rollie I’m a dope dealer nigga
    Got the plug on the dodie I’m a dope dealer nigga
    Better buck, your auntie know me I’m a dope dealer nigga

    Cali niggas is managin’ we havin, Greedy
    We got F 57s and we savages, beasty
    My little niggas be ampin’, they some P’s, hustlers
    Some of them sell candy some sell trees, customers
    But personally I’m a rapper, and I’m spectacular, remarkable
    Got a way with my words my lingo and vernacular, marketable
    I beat a bitch down I promise you I ain’t playin’ (beat his ass)
    Stomp his ass out throw him in the garbage can, the trash
    The harder the trap you might find me snapping’ bones
    The sink on the soil eatin’ dominos
    Where the gumbo pots boil the taskforce radar homes, Vamonos
    Heavy surveillance, hella copters and drones

    I think somebody getting bodied on the weekday
    Get out the way
    I’m in my new clothes, now drop it for me for a bankroll
    I’m lookin’ like a motherfuckin’ dope dealer nigga
    Where the hoes where the blow I’m just a dope dealer nigga
    Paper in the paper bag I’m a dope dealer nigga
    Bitch to beat his ass I’m a dope dealer nigga
    Fuck your homies and the police I’mma dope dealer nigga
    Couple diamonds in my rollie I’m a dope dealer nigga
    Got the plug on the dodie I’m a dope dealer nigga
    Better buck, your auntie know me I’m a dope dealer nigga

    I got them egg whites and them oxtails for the low
    Got them hot wheels gotta push start and it go
    Got them 16’s of the Act right and its sealt’
    We on the frontline when its crunch time to get chilled
    You us lil’ niggas love gold chains and them whips
    Make me rearrange your whole thang for my hip
    I get this motherfucker jumpin’ bitch you know why I came
    They told me Thou Shalt not kill when I jumped in the flame
    I’m cocoo for the cocoa leaves and I turned it to dope
    The money never grew on trees but I’m watching it grow
    We talkin’ cold watchin’ hoes tellin’ em that I keep
    I get to swinging’ on this chopper nigga, R.I.P

    You heard what I mean, its your boy yeah its Smacc mane
    Its better livin’ with mines man you heard what I mean
    We got break your bitch man we got send her back to you broke man
    You funky cock biatch

    White stones, panties gone, boom
    2 phones, man he on, boom
    Bank roll, hella hoes, boom
    Big dope, blow your nose, boom
    White stones, panties gone, boom
    2 phones, man he on, boom
    Bank roll, hella hoes, boom
    Big dope, blow your nose, boom


  • Don P – Hit The Block lyrics

    [Verse 1: Don P]
    Am I being forward? smell like weed, eyes lowered
    Pulled up in a beamer, came up in a concord
    Came up in a hand me down, now im in a tom ford
    40 in my waist or I got it in the top drawer
    Go ahead and talk more, like Hov, im def
    What you make in a year, im willin to bet
    Plus I probably ran thru hoes than hef
    Had to get right, then they gettin left
    Dont hold you breath baby… unless your mouth full
    Me? I keep a lot of um, probably got a house full
    Man its only right that I fuck her in the house pool
    Remember when I had nothin? Everybody doubtful
    Now my route full, barley pulled up Miami
    On my biggie flow, then im goin back to cali
    In a 500 Benz, I feel like makaveli
    Ridin on rims, low pro, pirelli

    [Hook: Don P]
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    All the way up, they ain’t got my view
    And yeah I hear um talkin but talkin bout who?
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    All the way up, they ain’t got my view
    And yeah I hear um talkin but talkin bout who?
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    [Verse 2: Don P]
    Oh talkin bout me? dont give a fuck about you
    I be in the same place, with or without you
    When you the come up, everybody doubt you
    Right when you on, everybody wannna help you
    Got they hand out, never gave a hand up
    Went and got my bands up, now I got my brand up
    Yall mad cut, kool aid to an act cup
    Talkin bout ballin, but it dont really add up
    Homie, better catch up.. where the money? where the whip?
    Why you keep a bummy click? why ur honey, not thick?
    Chick got no hips, wouldn’t give her yo dick!
    Tell me how you ball if you always hit a brick
    Rule number 4.. you ain’t bumpin no big?
    Talkin bout me.. then you bumpin real big
    Took a big swig, comin at the big wig
    I ain’t gotta prove nothin, I already did but

    [Hook: Don P]
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    All the way up, they ain’t got my view
    And yeah I hear um talkin but talkin bout who?
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    All the way up, they ain’t got my view
    And yeah I hear um talkin but talkin bout who?
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do

    [Verse 3: Don P]
    I be in a foreign, everytime I pull thru
    When you kill the game, they gon wanna kill you
    Follow everything you do, claimin that they dont feel u
    Met you one time, talkin bout the real you
    Oh you REALLY knew me, you dont like the new me?
    Homie keep it movin, know you canrt move me
    Coulda been right here, but you rather be a groupie
    100 round clips, hits lookin like a movie
    Shout out to my first love, Aka, AR
    And I got an AK, in the back of my new car
    We done came too far, I dont care who you are
    But imma hit the button if my back on the wall
    I would takee the fall for my people…
    Most of yall wouldn’t take a call from your people
    We are not equal, imma ki.. you ain’t nothin but a gram cap
    The weight is over, but i dont think you undertsand that

    [Hook: Don P]
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    All the way up, they ain’t got my view
    And yeah I hear um talkin but talkin bout who?
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do
    All the way up, they ain’t got my view
    And yeah I hear um talkin but talkin bout who?
    Im hit the block, do what I gotta do


  • Maxo Kream – Out The Front Door letras

    [Hook: Maxo Kream]
    You can’t smoke around, sit around
    Gotta cop and dip
    Move a hundred pound outta’ bounds
    Now I’m getting chips
    When I was young I was hella dumb
    My trap wasn’t shit
    Went from a 1 to a metric ton
    Trap house did a flip
    I don’t even know this nigga but I still made the sale (Hell!)
    Ring my door bell (Hell!), sell a whole bale
    It was 5 pound short stupid nigga couldn’t tell (Ayo)
    Blowing up my cell (well), should of brought a scale

    [Verse 1: Maxo Kream]
    Fork whipping, mixing grit
    Used to burn up all my shit
    Cop me a scale and zip
    Hol’ on now I’m getting it
    Finesse the stain, finesse the plug
    Finesse that dope, finesse that bitch
    Finesse about a hundred thousand grams using counterfeit
    I’d be strapped already, trigger happy
    Posted with the toolie
    Pistol packing, I was packing
    I be packing like I’m moving
    The ones that like to sit around
    Would be the ones that try to do you
    So I keep up my spare shotty with a kick like Jin Kazuma
    [Bridge: Maxo Kream]
    Keep my trapping on the low cause it ain’t everybody’s business
    I got 25-to-life inside them cabinets in my kitchen
    Hunnid pounds in the trash bag, Maxo do the dishes
    Hunnid rounds in the AR mag I can’t leave no witness
    Got cameras in the front, got cameras in the back
    Got cameras cross the street, in that old Cadillac
    Got J’s in my closet, got J’s at the door
    Got J’s to wash my car for a lil’ crack of coke
    Ring my doorbell, come in and take your shoes off
    Wax in the oven, take it out and let it cool off
    Pack right here you ain’t even gotta sit down
    Don’t get cozy, get this shit and move the fuck around

    [Hook: Maxo Kream]
    You can’t smoke around, sit around
    Gotta cop and dip
    Move a hundred pound outt’ bounds
    Now I’m getting chips
    When I was young I was hella dumb
    My trap wasn’t shit
    Went from a 1 to a metric ton
    Trap house did a flip
    I don’t even know this nigga but I still made the sale
    Ring my door bell, sell a whole bale
    It was 5 pound short stupid nigga couldn’t tell
    Blowing up my cell, should of brought a scale

    [Verse 2: Key!]
    36 O’s, that’s a bad hoe
    36 German bricks, that’s a stupid bitch
    Introduce that stupid bitch to them bad hoes
    Pockets on overload, now your pockets swole
    Who don’t want pressure? Who ain’t got pressure?
    Boy we fucking shine, pressure lake it dies
    Where your pressure point? I bet I can find it
    Where your pressure point? I bet I can find it
    I got a fifty round drum and a [?]
    And I’m beating down your block, you’re like Congo
    Where the base go? Where the base go?
    Talking to the internet like where the base go?
    Trap house swole, trap house closed
    I keep my young’in”s on the block even when it’s cold
    Now they coming back hot, I’m like “Damn whoa!”
    What y’all gone and told?

    [Hook: Maxo Kream]
    You can’t smoke around, sit around
    Gotta cop and dip
    Move a hundred pound outta bounds
    Now I’m getting chips
    When I was young I was hella dumb
    My trap wasn’t shit
    Went from a 1 to a metric ton
    Trap house did a flip
    I don’t even know this nigga but I still made the sale
    Ring my door bell, sell a whole bale
    It was 5 pound short stupid nigga couldn’t tell
    Blowing up my cell, should of brought a scale