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special request to all nice and decent real niggaz (stop hatin) - 509 bmg lyrics

[intro]
[?]
yeah man
[?]

[verse 1]
contract k!ller make you see n*ggas dumping ’round the city
dog*eat*dog world, get them puppies out the business (yah)
jefe pop out the f*ckin’ cut like circumcisions
n*gga thinking that this sh*t a game, i bet he gon’ feel it
i can’t leave my firearm, might die hard like bruce willis
i was 17, bl!ck up on that bike, couldn’t pop no wheelie
i’m a [?], flip a sweet n*gga like lilly dilly (lilly dilly)
everyday the shop open it’s gon’ cost a pretty penny
we put fear inside these n*ggas’ hearts and make them tuck they pendants (n*gga)
beat a n*gga ass and havе him lookin’ ugly, rocking [?] (yah)
he be balling hard the wholе game, the whole 48 minutes
babygirl, what you tryna do, lemme get behind that thickness
bowls off the f*ckin’ head, [?] talking h*llo kitty (like h*llo kitty)
b*tch, it’s santa claus, run in your sh*t, i’m sliding down your chimney (down your chimney, n*gga)
i be dropping d*ck inside these hoes, they feel it in they kidney
b*tch, i told you what the program is, don’t try to f*ckin’ kiss me
i could see the ho all in these n*ggas, 20/20 vision
20/20 vision he think that sh*t can [?]
jefe pop up out the cut with [?]
how many shots [?] a bottle, way too f*cking many, alright
these n*ggas way too hot, must wanna go to prison (go to prison)
[?] the stick 40 rounds, you know the [?] 50 (n*gga)
these n*ggas got napoleon complex, they act like midgets (midgets)
allat tough sh*t’ll leave you swimming with the fishes
that boy gon’ catch a gold dot before we catch him slippin’ (slippin’)
this 57 magnum make him walk like a egyptian
we seen the fall, n*gga outside today, he started p*ssing (p*ssing)
[?] send a n*gga over, expedited shipping
that n*gga ain’t gon’ do sh*t, he just jerkin’ the chicken (chicken)
i bet i’ll bang this f*ckin’ bl!ck, i don’t need no permission (missing)
he can’t even handle a kick, he d*mn near broke his wrist (yah, yah)
sometimes i got regrets, but i’m still out here taking risks (taking risks)
how the i’m in the club with a glock 26
n*gga play, i’ll make the whole room do the peppermint twist
and i could put the gl!cks down and get inside the grid
grown man sh*t, keep ’em at home, we ain’t gon’ spare your kids
keep it pimping, you outta luck, n*gga, i don’t want your b*tch (yah)
trigger finger itch, i do ’em cold just like the fridge (fridge)
bmg i’m married to the game, we get them hits
and i’m so locked in with my brothers, i could never switch
i’m a genie, rub me the wrong way, i’ll grant ya wish (grant ya wish)
if n*ggas don’t get out the way, then n*ggas gettin’ squished (ya)
it’s bmg, i brought my poly, b*tch, i’m dying with it (dying with it, n*gga)
if a n*gga [?], he flying with the fish (i’m gone)
you know what the f*ck it is, i’m up and gone, man
[verse 2]
alright
i can’t leave the choppa, i’m tryna see a body drop
these n*ggas all up on my d*ck, they ain’t gettin’ no guap
lil’ jefe pop up out the cut, clean sh*t up with a mop
i still get migraines everytime i see the cops
i got wings under my belt like i’m playing for boston
these n*ggas on some ho sh*t, so i’ma get ’em off it
i put a n*gga on tv tonight like johnny carson
i caught his ass outside, he almost sh*t his undergarments
i caught his ass outside, he almost sh*t his undergarments
all of these n*ggas be fronting like they all vicious, sh*t, most of ’em harmless
n*gga try to good business, i was gon’ buck her regardless
these n*ggas flagging like they plugs and i’m a f*ckin’ charger
bmg, i’m on some bullsh*t like ron harper
my magazines hold bald heads and big t**th like steve harvey
well, we got ammo cans for days, that’s what the f*ck i’m talkin’
f*ck n*gga, you can catch a sh*ll, it’s like we eating crawfish
i put that sh*t right on your hair, i’m jamal crawford
talk the lil’ n*gga numbers, i need a higher offer
babygirl, what it do, i’m tryna be ya babyfather
i drop good d*ck on her, now i got a stalker
me and jefe move like biggs and wayne from off of shottas
n*gga had a [?] but i’m gon’ have to get that guap up
these n*ggas do too much talkin’, yada*yada*yada
glock 17 got a long slide, no pocket rocket
and when i come up off the hip, you n*ggas better watch it
that n*gga almost got his ass hit, told him back up off me
crack a pack got a n*gga coughing
he tried to run off with my sh*t back out to whatchacallit
these goofy ass n*ggas can’t get a stop, i’m really ballin’
if i was old as f*ck and broke, too, of course i’d be salty
i got no pity on these f*ck n*ggas, no sayin’ sorry
these n*ggas cheatin’ bricks ’cause i’m gon’ finish what i started
these crackers act like i’m a dumbass, i’m a easy target
always tryna talk between the lines, hiding behind the jargon
i’m tryna put a p*ssy n*gga on a f*ckin’ carpet
i don’t know what these n*ggas talking, i’m like beg ya pardon
these n*ggas funny as a f*ck, i call ’em seth macfarlane
i hit the dope until i’m looking like a f*cking martian
i don’t take these n*ggas serious like daniel larson
better hit the f*cking floor ’cause, b*tch, i got my carpet
you know what the f*ck it is, man, bmg [?]
[verse 3]
alright
you know what the f*ck it is, man
it’s bmg comin’ with a whole new flavor, roll a n*gga up like some rolling paper
[?]
come on, yah, alright
i ain’t had no f*ckin’ whip, i had to use my feet
that don’t mean i was lacking up my bl!ck, i told my boys to beat it
i got my fye right on my hip, your sh*t under your seat
it’s no*brain that i got a pick between you and me
n*ggas out here really smashing sh*t, i’m playin’ deep
this b*tch too hot, i told her slow down like bobby v
i send ’bout 30 shots, i ain’t got time to bob and weave
this choppa for k!lling n*ggas, it don’t do no robberies
no robberies, will jefe pop up out the cut? probably
bmg the head n*gga in charge, i feel like prodigy
i’m not gon’ hit you with my fist, that’s why we got technology
i put some hot sh*t on your ass, ain’t talking sodomy (ew)
this greasy ar bullet got your f*ckin’ name on it
look how that n*gga hold the stick, that boy don’t got no aim on it
i told the plug to hurry up, ain’t tryna wait on it
i don’t know what these n*ggas got goin’, we need to pray for ’em
babygirl, arch ya back, lemme see your form
i’m dropping d*ck inside that ho, she feel it in her core
i got her running from the d*ck, she can’t take it no more
she f*cking with the bmg, them other n*ggas boring
i walk inside the function, i get all these b*tches h*rny
i know these p*ssy n*ggas hating, so i got my [?]
he thinking he hanging with steppers, he gettin’ extorted
ain’t no one thinking ’bout y’all n*ggas, y’all ain’t that important
tryna take some from me? n*gga, what the f*ck you snorting?
forensic vans coming, i’ll put your ass on law & order
i know some real zos and some of ’em over the border
lil’ b*tch i’m always tryna eat like i got a disorder
chopsticks i bought and never sell, i love to h**rd ’em
this beef, i’ll put you on the grill, just call me george foreman
these n*ggas act like b*tches, n*ggas act like bojack horseman
i’m tryna buss in a n*gga’s face, let’s make a p*rno
you got your chop, i got my chop, n*gga let’s go to war though
bring this sh*t to your door, b*tch, it’s not delivery, it’s digiorno
this money got me gettin’ fat, it got me gettin’ gordo
these b*tches get around me and they can’t control they hormones
.45 bullet ripping through a p*ssy n*gga’ torso
n*gga, i be speaking facts like i’m matthew santoro
bmg, i’m a big dog like cane corso
these n*ggas hard ’bout it, but let’s see if they hard in court though
i been flossing all year, i got these n*ggas sittin’ for life
a old n*gga, can’t leave the crib without the walking stick
i need a grown up ’cause these n*ggas all up on my d*ck
don’t swing my crib unless you wanna feel 556
landslide, out in public, no not stevie nicks
with all the sh*t you n*ggas talk, y’all better have y’all bl!cks
boy, it ain’t nothing you can say with trigger fingers itchin’
hold that b*tch tight and lock ya eyes, it’s time to get to cl!cking
hold that b*tch tight and lock ya eyes, it’s time to get to cl!cking
hold that b*tch tight, i don’t know you n*ggas
you feel me
[verse 4]
i’m a rapper first, family man second, i put god third, n*gga
thirty rounds of [?] everytime i’m stepping out
open carry, look like we in texas, got my weapon out
[?] hold me steady now
these n*ggas really up in high rank, i got ’em steppin’ down
i don’t need my n*ggas with me, i’ll still gun you down
i run this sh*t, step into my office, b*tch, i’m jim halpert
i never freeze up when it’s time to cl!ck, i’m not no coward
that boy a sweet one, n*gga came around and got devoured
tryna run off on me, boy, get your nose up out the powder
don’t drop the soap, i’ll back the 9, i’ll give that boy a shower
how many shots i got with me today, ain’t even count ’em
i never seen this ho, i treat her like a outta*towner
babygirl, come and crash your plane into my twin towers
show me you really ’bout it, go ahead and drop those trousers
i drop that d*ck inside that ho, she gettin’ overpowered
i’m finna duck off with this ho for a couple of hours
we got h*lla dope, tell me where the f*ck the drought is
choppa telescope, lock my eye and knock ’em down
i was down bad on my d*ck sleepin’ on couches
i got some work off of my face and went to runnin’ routes
these n*ggas don’t get from round and i get dumped from ’round
i don’t like nothing about these boys, don’t got no common ground
geeked up with my b*tch like we whitney and bobby brown
it’s 357 [?] with n*ggas on the ground
it’s 357 [?] put n*ggas on they back, [?]
tell a n*gga what it is, but he better not answer back
i dump the mag on him ’cause that’s the straw that broke the camel’s back
he seen me come out the cut, he d*mn near had a heart attack
so i got hot sh*t if he’s on the receiving end of that
lil’ jefe pop up out that cut, he got that f*ckin’ mac
better put down that .38, can’t do nothing with that
i kick you n*ggas out the crib, i ain’t f*ckin’ with that
i almost shot him in the face ’cause he was talking back
i spent a thousand on this strap, these n*gga getting chatty
babygirl, what it do, i’m tryna be your babydaddy
[?] issue, abandon manners when i drop the hammer
i can’t f*ck on no regular ho ’cause i got standards
drop the d*ck inside this ho even though i can’t stand her
the chopper sound like thunder, [?]
me and my brother in the field, payton and eli manning
i’ll send a f*ck n*gga to god like i’m jesse duplantis
i can’t take you on a date ’cause, b*tch, i’m not romantic
smoking crack a pack straight to the face, i’m off this f*cking planet

[verse 5]
[?]
if you ever in a glass house, don’t throw no f*cking stones
i got .45 acp, gon’ break a n*gga’ bones
jefe pop out the cut and took your ass like mike jones
you can’t come around this way ’cause it’s a no fly zone
hoping outside, lurking like sherlock holmes
got my choppa out, i’m in the n*gga’ yard like garden gnomes
everytime i went on a mission, i left my f*ckin’
everytime i went on a mission, i left my phone
bmg bring the heat to your f*ckin’ headphones
fly the n*gga [?] send him to firestone
we gon’ skin t**th, them skinbone n*ggas know what we on
if a [?] his moves, then he gon’ get his mind blown
n*ggas know i’m on everytime i left my home
let bygones be bygones, b*tch, i got my 9 on
these n*ggas p*ssy, when they go to bed they leave the lights on
i make the choppa sing like beyoncé notes
run inside the n*gga crib to get his sh*t forclosed
i seen my brother beat a bone, he gave the b*tch stockholm
got no backbone, we run that boy over like potholes
we don’t pop kids, we do pop n*ggas and pop hoes
if you don’t wanna get burned, then don’t put ya hand on the stove
me and my bruddas so locked in sometimes we share clothes
these n*ggas see me outside, act like they seen a ufo
everybody bleed the same, what you acting scary for?
drive through a n*gga sh*t like i’m at the [?]
that n*gga coping pleas, but i can’t spare a no
get down or lay down, everybody hit the floor
if you live in a
if you live in a glass house, don’t throw no f*ckin’ stones
i got .45 acp, gon’ break a n*gga’ bones
jefe pop up out the cut and took your ass like mike jones
you can’t come around this way ’cause it’s a no fly zone
hoping outside, lurking like sherlock holmes (sherlock holmes)
got my choppa out, i’m in the n*gga’ yard like garden gnomes (like garden gnomes)
everytime i went on a mission, i left my phone
bmg bring the heat to ya f*ckin’ headphones, yah

- 509 bmg lyrics

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