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lirik lagu no chorus, pt. 9 – blocboy jb

[verse]
ayy, p-ssy -ss n-gga done got too troubled
hit ’em in the eye, they like ooh he cuddle
make the wrong move, i don’t do non-bustin’
i don’t give a f-ck about who do cousin (that’s on my mama)
2017 we got choppers with the beam, n-gga
big dreams, that’s the martin luther king n-gga
clip long like a limousine n-gga
bullets run you over like a f-ckin’ limousine hit you
we got them k!llers outside
where you gon’ go? you got nowhere to hide
ak they come with the knives
i stick you and shoot you, how you gon’ survive?
the plug is comin’ at five
stretch ’em, he won’t be alive
how many p’s? five
what you gon’ do? i’m gon’ split it with the guys (that’s on my mama)
n-ggas they hate but they keep it in disguise
it’s not my fault that you work a five to nine
broke, and i got a server runnin’ in and out the door
all about the bill like i live in buffalo
said i got a server runnin’ in and out the door
all about the bill like i live in buffalo
n-gga tried to rob me, turned his -ss into a ghost
two o’s in the back, gave his -ss a double o
n-gga tried to steal my cash, so i went and f-cked his ho
n-gga done made me mad, so i sipped a hundred some’ goin’ to the door
hit the club, i’ma act a fool in this ho
came through the back, got my tool in this ho
if a n-gga make the wrong move in this ho
glock two, now dude on the floor
found out where he hide mane, i’m about to ride out
car ain’t brand new but this coupe got some drive ’bout
pull up on your boo, she like ooh, pull that iron out
i’m an og like doe b, let me find out
your b-tch gave me head, yeah she good with the dill pickle
hundred on his head, f-ck it, that’s just how i deal with you
tell the streets the truth, blocboy jb be the real n-gga
forty make your whole team run, track and field n-gga
plug just came with the pack so fast that a n-gga might go’n head hit him with the uhh
now i’m like uhh, feelin’ like soulja boy, hit ’em with the you
n-gga i’m a g-ngb-nger, i’ma let it bang bang
i ain’t talking car game, b-tch we can do it
make a n-gga bling hang, i did him cruel (what’s up?)
police come, watch me maneuver (i’m gone)
i do not beef on computers, i give it to you like a distributer
n-ggas they singin’, call ’em marvin lewis
that’s why when i see ’em, shots at they medula
got on my knees and i prayed and always said my grace
who knew i would blow up in the freezer?
tell all the n-ggas that hate get the f-ck out my face
b-tch i’m icy, shoutout to my jeweler
xd’s with the coolant, shots at your medula, all my n-ggas shooters
kickin’ kack, c’in cool with the ruler
but i’m not a tutor, pull up like an uber
toasted like a strudel, boiled like some noodles
then feed you to one of my freaky lil thots
we servin’ soft, we don’t mix it in pots
might run in your spot and hit you with the glock

[outro]
blocboy next up, time to run a check up
hands in the air ’cause girl i’m a flexer
flexer, finesser, bend her, undress her
choppers, berettas, all up on the dresser
ayy, haha, i told y’all n-ggas this sh-t don’t stop n-gga
whole lot of crip sh-t n-gga
n-gga know what goin’ on man
and i’ma die behind that n-gga, crip

- blocboy jb

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