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facts pt. 3 - k7thefinesser lyrics

[intro: qheph]
qheph
gang and them
(what you gonna do? you gonna k!ll me, mr. j?)

[verse 1: qheph]
swear to god that i’m faded off this perc’
but when it come to gettin’ a bag, i go to work
a best n*gga try me, put him on a shirt
i might just drop some money on a n*gga head

[verse 2: k7thefinesser]
droppin’ stacks on these n*ggas, treat ’em like a stripper
he was lackin’ in the streets, i blew him out his slippers
i like juice, but sometimes, i might just hit the liquor
catch me in the field lookin’ for mr. whiskers

[verse 3: qheph]
i’m on the tour, boy fiends a nice guy, not a tripper
he dropped a one in a two*liter and he’s not a sippеr
n*gga talkin’ ’bout he don’t dance, i turned him to a strippеr
don’t bring your b*tch around gang and them ’cause we gon’ flip her

[verse 4: k7thefinesser]
you fell in love with a ho n*gga, why you kiss her?
stickin’ a compact glock, pow, right in the kisser
always gotta keep that sh*t on me, i got a short temper
these hoes get too attached like a bunch of stickers
[verse 5: qheph]
broke the b*tch for over thirty bands and i dismissed her
i just re’d up and send her, you n*ggas some simpers
[?] the trap one time, knock his b*tch, now he’s a wimper
all off k!llmore or susan lee like this stinc temper

[verse 6: k7thefinesser]
f&n stretched him out longer than a limo
i love playin’ games with these hoes like nintendo
5.56, .223s shootin’ through your window
can’t be playin’ games in the streets if you ain’t got a pistol

[verse 7: qheph]
wait? what? he ain’t got no bl!cky?
poppin’ that hot sh*t like i ain’t a joint in my city
caught him shoppin’ in k town
buy some twenty*four kit, and n*gga had to lay him down
i’m on pimp street, i’m never lackin’
n*ggas wanna play in the streets, i’m pistol packin’
dog run up, i got compact nina
n*ggas can’t see me ’cause i’m somethin’ like john cena
i be takin’ shots like my name was trevor ariza
i feed my hoes berries, feed ’em little caesars

[verse 8: k7thefinesser]
stincs run la, you can do your research
chiefin’ heavily printed all over my t*shirt
i’ma pop this perc’ a little later because i gotta eat first
it’s real cold in the streets so i keep a heater
pour a four in a wockesha, i need a two*liter
qheph in that benz, and i’m in a bimmer
i’m in the streets for real, i ain’t no comedian
i fed the opps lead ’cause they needed it
squabblin’ down the p*ssy, really beatin’ it
you can give me head, but i ain’t eatin’ it

- k7thefinesser lyrics

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