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no cap - ftos twan lyrics

[intro: ftos twan]
(okay, kmoney)
ayy

[verse 1: ftos twan]
‘wood and a swisher got me talkin’ to my dead opps
b*tch, i don’t fit in ’cause i stand out
stuff your b*tch with some pressed pills and make her head out
that’s your mans, huh? he a hothead, huh?
see you, shoot him ten times in the head and make his head hot
[verse 2: rmc mike]
chase him down in some jordan 2s, b*tch, they deadstock
brand new plr with the coolant and the red dot
auntie tryna buy a thousand vics, meet me at redbox
f*cked your b*tch off a zip of runtz and a red pop
poke an opp three times in the stomach, watch him bled out
i just got some head and caught a body at a fan house
b*tch had her brother tryna k!ll me, guess it ain’t plan out

[verse 3: mia rerock]
hit a jugg for ten iphones, now my head hot
i hit a b*tch off a perc*10 and made her legs lock
i never see you p*ssy n*ggas out, y’all playin’ dead, huh?
drive to texas and get ten thousand from lil ed house
then firebomb my ex*b*tch crib ’cause she a fed now
shoot at me, i’m drummin’ back with glock and hittin’ heads now

[verse 4: grindhard e]
sh*t, i just poured out some drank for the dead opps
gave unc’ a twenty of some raw, he in a headlock
bro just spent four blue strips on a red glock
i got a smith & wesson, 40 cal with a red dot
i met a white fiend that was iffy, spendin’ bands now
told mama don’t get me sh*t for christmas, i’m the man now

[verse 5: mia rerock]
i think it’s n*ggas outside f*ckin’ with my charger
i’m finna hit you n*ggas block and then act r*t*rded
i bought a glock with no attachments, you can ask lil harley
i’m sittin’ in your trashcan with this baby carbon
i’m finna chase this n*gga down in my uncle jordans
[verse 6: grindhard e]
n*gga, no the f*ck you ain’t, you better grab my forces
a’ll chase you down in the scat, he got six hundred horses
the condom bust inside of my b*tch, the trip got aborted
i got a ‘bow of real cookie, this sh*t came imported

[verse 7: rmc mike]
i just got some pure*ass cocaine, this sh*t came from florida
phone disconnected on the plug, i think he got deported
e got a pint of hi*tech, but he sippin’ morton
i can get you anything you want, i got six different sources
my plug from overseas, he pulled up in six different porsches
yeah, he might be taxin’ for this sh*t, but it’s never a shortage
i done made a way for a lot of n*ggas, but never rewarded

[verse 8: ftos twan]
come to my hood with no pass, you gon’ get escorted
hit a n*gga with .223s, that’s lebron and jordan
all the opps say, “aye,” if you got hit with torch
sn*tch the head off your b*tch and i might record it
she gon’ f*ck the whole gang ’cause it ain’t no shortage
tre lil’ bro, if i’d point, then you know he scorin’
it’s vice*versa, if he point, then you know i torture
he wanna drop a hundred on me, he got a bullet shortage
your bum ass can’t drop a hundred on a pair of forces
hi*tech in my cup, boy, you can’t afford it
auntie cut me in with the drank, i only paid forty
ot is sixty a pill, i’m finna stuff my shorty

- ftos twan lyrics

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