Tangotalk

[Intro] (Goddamn, BJ with another one) Alright, come on [Chorus] I grew up taking s*it, flash out, I might face a b!tch (I might) This a SRT, I stomp the gas, 12 ain’t gon’ play with this Them n!ggas took my brother, I can’t let ’em get away with this We in this car to kill, get out the V with all that faking s*it (His b!tch ass) I was tryna go on hits before I made a hit (You know that) He had his gun and let his homie die, that boy’s a major b!tch (His b!tch ass) We fresh off a drill, got blood all on my hands like I was painting s*it After shootouts, I’d go and talk to God like, \”Am I made for this?\” [Verse] Last n!gga dissed the gang, they found his dumb ass with his ass out (His dumb ass) Fu*k all the opps, I spin they block until I pass out (‘Til I pass out) I lost my dogs, it hurt me deep, I wanna crash out That boy’s a b!tch, I see straight through him like a glass house On the road to riches with my Glock, I took the fast route Four months ago, I was just broke, I got a bag now You get too close, the car start beeping when I back out Got hit up with a switch and he was shaking like he lagged out Got a short temper, play with me, I’m quick to take it there Dead on the scene, so the hospital, he ain’t make it there Bounce out the V, aim at his head like I was taping hair Hit his ass so many times, just pull the plug, he ain’t gon’ make the chair I’m from the ‘Raq, I’m blessed, we usually don’t make it here Play with the gang, your ass gon’ die, you lose your face in here Three got the wheel, gon’ get us home, I got my faith in him Got the same love for my dog, but when it’s Brick, boy, I don’t play ’bout him Long live SB, don’t say that name, boy, I’ll spray ’bout him Long live Mook Money, shoot broad day, I’ll catch a case ’bout him Long live Mike, b!tch, I won’t see another day ’bout him Forever tossing for the gang, I see the opps and I’m gon’ spray at them [Chorus] I grew up taking s*it, flash out, I might face a b!tch This a SRT, I stomp the gas, 12 ain’t gon’ play with this Them n!ggas took my brother, I can’t let ’em get away with this We in this car to kill, get out the V with all that faking s*it (His b!tch ass) I was tryna go on hits before I made a hit (For real) He had his gun and let his homie die, that boy’s a major b!tch (His b!tch ass) We fresh off a drill, got blood all on my hands like I was painting s*it After shootouts, I’d go and talk to God like, \”Am I made for this?\” [Outro] (Goddamn, BJ with another one). Fakin lyrics – VonOff1700 : Get lyrics and music video of this beautiful song here on LyricsBull.com