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lunch break freestyle - dcg brothers lyrics

[intro: dcg shun]
i ain’t bein’ ginger today, gentle
lunch break freestyle, let’s eat
he ain’t gettin’ back up
i say, look, i say, uh

[verse 1: dcg shun, dcg bsavv & chorus]
first n*gga fall, he f*cked
if you don’t bail out right now, we pull on they block, these n*ggas gon’ see my truck
n*ggas keep postin’ on facebook, sendin’ him prayers and postin’ his people up (wah, wah, wah)
f*ck yo’ son, i come add it on her status and said he ain’t gettin’ back up
b*tch, money on my head, i still ain’t dead, i still ain’t tint my truck
i clapped yo’ ass wit’ one of my favorite glocks, i never come— (give this up)
uh*uh, she love that n*gga, she prayin’ for him, we finna come lift him up
soon as he die, i’m makin’ my homie’nem f*ck her, and tell her, go build her up (uh*huh)
she f*ckin’ that n*gga like i don’t even know, that sh*t just k!lled my trust
i heard that sh*t and laughed, if i was high, i wouldn’t even gave a— (d*mn)
when n*ggas go broke, the favorite line, ayy bro, i’m savin’ up
i done got rich in a year, he still ain’t rich, sh*t, i woulda gave it up
uh, uh, look, i woulda gave it up
the police ask you questions, you told the truth, sh*t, i woulda made it up
i ran it down the court, pass to my mans, sh*t, you woulda laid it up
shun ain’t got enough d*ck for none of these hoes, my lil’ b*tch ate it up (she did)
my lil’ b*tch ate it down
it’s eighty degrees outside, they say they posted, (frrt), eighty rounds
one of my opps tryna rap, i ain’t even gon’ hate, i really just— (hate his sound)
and you don’t gotta pass the lead, i’m already up, i don’t need no favors
[verse 2: dcg bsavv, dcg shun & chorus]
look, i’m ridin’ through there right now
just like a mattress, i’m ’bout to lay it down
i’m runnin’ that b*tch myself and tyin’ him up, and told him don’t make a—
my opps so slow, they don’t even got no feet and can’t even pr*nounce a noun
like a co, we finna shake it down
back then they love me, but hate me— (now)
i’m in a straight a [?]
f*ck all that yellin’, the n*gga better— ([?] me down)
it’s always n*ggas who never did sh*t tellin’ a n*gga, “you better go ask around”
i’m finna flag it down in the stores and they tryna— (tax me down)
stores, and they tryna tax me down, no lols, i ain’t laugh out— (loud)
i’m on the road, and i got some bowls, and we got some poles, and we goin’ to— (rolling loud)
i be so cold, a n*gga got cold just doin’ these shows, i’m jumpin’ in— (all the crowds)
it’s been so long, my n*gga did ten and he doin’ time, and he finna— (walk ’em down)
this b*tch so deep inside of her bag, i still like to spoil her, but she like to boss around
i’m flyin’ my b*tch, so fly in the air that she coulda— (lost her crown)
i’m hittin’ yo’ ho in the head, i’m foldin’ her legs, like how she get tossed around
i been say whatever i said, them n*ggas get scared, that’s why they don’t come a— (’round)
my career, my sh*t been off the ground
he was walkin’, the n*gga ain’t talkin’ now
n*gga lost his top, and i went and find this sh*t up there though (sh*t was in the lost and found)
got a hunnid p’s, you gon’ get you two for three if you make a offer now
she was textin’ me talkin’ ’bout she gon’ eat this d*ck, b*tch, you actin’— (awkward now)
i was workin’ but that sh*t really ain’t payin’ off, so now i’m clockin’ out
[verse 3: dcg msavv, dcg shun & chorus]
f*ck it, he checkin’ out
out at his crib, we stakin’ out
shots at his head, scary ass n*gga be duckin’, i’m tryna take him out
you lovin’ that ho, she nothin’, yo’ right*hand man, she tryna suck him
all on my d*ck, i won’t even f*ck her, free all the k!llers who ain’t say nothin’ (i won’t say nothin’)
i won’t ever tell, i won’t say sh*t, it look like we up and dyin’ rich
tell ’em i ain’t really had died, b*tch
tell him he really had died a snitch
ridin’ wit’ fours, slide down his block and dome, we hit his eye and nose
callin’ the pressure, n*gga had died from pressure, i know that sh*t hurt the most
i’m ridin’ wit’ mine, it’s never a issue
“i’m blowin’ my gun,” i’m blowin’ it wit’ you
out on parole, i still wanna hit him, sh*t, don’t stop, might catch up wit’ you (might catch up wit’ him)
i’m ridin’ this b*tch, and i’m ridin’ it fast
prayin’ to god that i never’ll crash
yo’ b*tch wanna f*ck, she hittin’ you last
out on the block, she hangin’ wit’ gang
came in this b*tch, i came wit’ aim
came in this b*tch, i came wit’— (aim)
it’s society, what you gon’ be like, o*dog, or you gon’ die like caine?
i’m sayin’ this sh*t get ugly
took shots, i’m sayin’ i’m lucky
i’m knowin’ they sayin’ they f*cked me, them n*ggas’ll talk, but never’ll touch me
i’m knowin’ they sayin’ it’s nothin’, i f*ck, i’m buyin’ her somethin’
listen to me, how you ain’t givin’ her funds but you out here givin’ her d?
listen to me, i’m tryna hurt me a n*gga, you really tryna be
listen to me, i’m tryna hurt me a n*gga, i’m tryna hurt me a n*gga
[outro: dcg shun, dcg bsavv & dcg msavv]
rrrr, i’m tryna hurt one of these n*ggas, man
ahaha
lunch break, b*tch

- dcg brothers lyrics

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