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real dallas - fbg murda lyrics

[intro]
(d*mn, finngotit)
ah, ah, ah, come on, come on, come on (grrt, grrt)
it sound like y’all should run (come on, ayy, let this sh*t, go, n*gga)
ayy, turn me up, n*gga
ayy, f*ck the opps, fto, n*gga (for real)
ayy, otssge (alright)

[chorus]
n*gga, i’m up, bro, if it’s somethin’ for less than a ball, youngin say he’ll k!ll for an onion (youngin say he’ll k!ll for a onion)
it’s been a minute since i had to risk my craft, tell them b*tch*ass pigs, “free monkey” (tell them b*tch*ass pigs, “free monkey”)
we come through blowin’, everybody out there targets, shoot whoever up in the function (grrt)
bro tryna harder than a b*tch, pulled up to this ho on a monday, get left on a sunday (get left on a sunday)

[verse 1]
that ho was tweakin’, i take me a switch ‘way to germany and probably bump heads with a russian (i’d probably bump hеads with a russian)
my b*tch dropped the bomb, on bro, n*gga, f*ck you and wait, p*ss me off, i’ll comе drop another (i’ll come drop another)
s7100 in this b*tch, who they signed ’em all and they b*tch*ass wasn’t on nothin’ (and they b*tch*ass wasn’t on nothin’)
five of them safety’s, jumped out with sheistys, them switches, them b*tch*ass n*ggas kept runnin’ (them b*tch*ass n*gga kept runnin’)
blg band, that’s a washed*up rapper (he a b*tch)
made a post, last twenty*four hours was duckin’ (twenty*four hours was duckin’)
find somethin’ safer to do or go play with your ho, i’m a dangerous young n*gga with money (i’m a dangerous young n*gga with money)
drac’, drac’ still lurkin’, strapped down with a grown man gun, leave a little*ass kid three hundred (leave a little*ass*kid three hundred)
your man get nothin’, this sh*t off of playin; with bricks, n*gga, i ain’t never f*cked with no junkies (i ain’t never f*cked with no junkies)
these b*tches goin’ just off my name, my merch and it’s different when she out here livin’ (it’s different when she out here livin’)
i could f*ck all of my exes if i want, but i don’t ’cause my b*tch got an ass, wanna build it (b*tch got an ass, wanna build it)
chop all my opps in the wind, catch a n*gga on this side of town, drop somethin’, on business (drop somethin’, business, brrt)
can’t f*ck with a broke*ass, opp n*ggas safe ’cause i’m rich and i’m certified, i’ll stand in the middle (i’ll send straight fire)
this 323 came with a big*ass mush, tryna smoke one of these cap*ass n*ggas (smoke one of these cap*ass n*ggas)
all about me, got bird face and throw it away (come on), i’m not one of these rat*ass n*ggas. i’m not one of these rappin’*ass n*ggas
somethin’ got left in the east, jumped out on feet, that’s another f*ckin’ hat in the vehicle (that’s another f*ckin’ hat in the vehicle)
it’s two deep, me and 6 up in ’round ot with a switch and leave that in a sprinter (bah, bah, bah, bah)
[chorus]
n*gga, i’m up, bro, if it’s somethin’ for less than a ball, youngin say he’ll k!ll for an onion (youngin say he’ll k!ll for a onion)
it’s been a minute since i had to risk my craft, tell them b*tch*ass pigs, “free monkey” (tell them b*tch*ass pigs, “free monkey”)
we come through blowin’, everybody out there targets (come on), shoot whoever up in the function (grrt, grrt)
bro tryna harder than a b*tch, pulled up to this ho on a monday, get left on a sunday

[verse 2]
them n*ggas hurtin’, he up with a little ass roll and that g can’t f*ck with me or nothin’ (n*gga, f*ck that g)
and since the fg, n*gga keep dissin’, tell him, “gg,” n*gga, get back for his brother (get back for your brother, b*tch)
i’ll probably pop out in gucci with off*white 1s with the gg’s leanin’ over my buckles
n*gga, free d (come on, come on), i been torturin’ sh*t through the 10, we the youngest cold k!llers with b*ttons (grrt, grrt)

[outro]
uh, come on (n*gga, free my brother, n*gga, f*ck the opps, n*gga)
yeah, come on
and act like y’all don’t know who it is (y’all ain’t gon’ like this)
y’all be duckin’ and sh*t
i saw your b*tch*ass in the mall, you wasn’t on nothin’
n*gga, your brother dead, why the f*ck you ain’t cuff him (don’t play with me)
on bro, uh, come on, uh, uh
keeve’ll rob your b*tch*ass
you don’t wan’ do nothin’ with me
that other rappin’*ass n*gga you called chicken
get it ‘fore you go sprung, where i’m at
uh, uh, n*gga, f*ck the opps, n*gga, you with them n*ggas, gon’ die with them
that rat*ass n*gga, haha, dead*ass, f*ck the opps, not f*ckin’ with him
haha, f*ck all this sh*t, i’m still havin’, y’all don’t have any drip
grrt, uh, free my brother

- fbg murda lyrics

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