lirik lagu my war – daen (producer)
[intro: pop smoke]
traphouse mob
yoz, what you tellin’ me? (yeah)
what you tellin’ me? yeah
i got snacks to the right of me
i got mikey to the left of me, huh, wait
woo
look, look
ayy, what up?
hold on, what they talkin’ ’bout? hey, what them folks talkin’ ’bout?
huh, look, huh
[hook: pop smoke]
buddy gon’ grrt that, grrt that, brrt that, brrt that
send shots, make ’em get back
all that chit*chat, chit*chat, riff*raff, riff*raff
my n*ggas ain’t into that
n*gga be talkin’ hot, but he ain’t on sh*t (woo)
i got like fifty rounds up in this clip
if i go to jail, n*gga, i’ll plead the fifth (uh?)
’cause mommy still gon’ love her kid
n*ggas tryna lock me up and give me a bid, huh?
i’m like n*gga, f*ck the pigs
the judge like, “why you actin’ like a d*ck?”
i said, “i’m movin’ like i’m steven vic”
my lawyer like, “poppy, why you brazen?”
i said, “i pop a perc’ and feel amazin'”
i shoot for the stars, i’m a foundation, huh
look at the money i’m raisin’
[verse: pop smoke]
she wanna f*ck, hold on
she snuck in the book, have her wait for arraignment
she get d*ck and edible arrangements
that’s the only form of payment
shawty a snack
and after i snack, i’ma blow out her back
she like, “poppy, you so crazy,” huh
i told her, “wine on me, baby” (woah)
she want a star
she wanna f*ck ’cause she know who we are
these hoes be dirty, ain’t hittin’ ’em raw
when it come to hoes, i got b*tches galore (grrt)
she wanna grip that, l!ck that, ask where the stick at
freak b*tch put my d*ck where her lips at (woo)
she goin’ all gas, no chit*chat (ayy)
she goin’ all gas, no chit*chat
ayy, bah*bah*ba*bum (bum)
here come that boy with the drum (woo)
if i pull it out, then that boy gonna run (brrt, brrt)
if he want the smoke, knock the beef out his bun, ayy
i go dumb, dumb, dumb (go dumb)
air it out, leave him slump*slump*slumped (baow)
f*ck what they say, they know that i’m gucci
pull up with a pump*pump*pump (pop, pop, pop)
[hook: pop smoke]
buddy gon’ grrt that, grrt that, brrt that, brrt that
send shots, make ’em get back
all that chit*chat, chit*chat, riff*raff, riff*raff
my n*ggas ain’t into that
n*gga be talkin’ hot, but he ain’t on sh*t (woo)
i got like fifty rounds up in this clip
if i go to jail, n*gga, i’ll plead the fifth (uh?)
’cause mommy still gon’ love her kid
n*ggas tryna lock me up and give me a bid, huh?
i’m like n*gga, f*ck the pigs
the judge like, “why you actin’ like a d*ck?”
i said, “i’m movin’ like i’m steven vic”
my lawyer like, “poppy, why you brazen?”
i said, “i pop a perc’ and feel amazin'”
i shoot for the stars, i’m a foundation, huh
look at the money i’m raisin’
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