
who got the damo - mdot 59 lyrics
[intro]
bow, bow, bow
[chorus]
melly the ‘ooter, he blazin’ for peter
step back with the ball, he a cheater
how many times we done threw on the kreepers?
can’t leave ’til he hit, ain’t no sh*t you could teach us
.38 special, it won’t leave a sh*ll
don’t try to run, bullets hotter than h*ll
if sh*t gettin’ sticky, i call up the l
me and [?] too deep, we gave pop a [?]
it’s one in the head, i don’t gotta c*ck it
up with two hands on a makk’ then you flock it
gun didn’t cl!ck, i had to socket
.32 special, it fit in my pocket
so many vics, but they wanna rap
pop, we lеft him flat on his back (get the f*ck up pop)
naz, smacked with thе back of the cap
ek shot, he got holes in his back
[verse]
why the f*ck they keep dissin’ my mans?
every trip on the opps, had em’ duckin’ the tans (word to bro)
why the f*ck is they throwin they hands?
i bet they all run when i reach in my pants
like, like, who got the damo?
[?] blazin’ with me, he gon’ follow
guns clappin’, it’s not throwin’ pollow
fl!ckin’ they wrist made ’em duck from the hollow
kreepk, they keep eating up d*ck
i got shots for the 4’s and the nick
when i up with the hip, n*gga you better dip
like word to bro had em’ duckin’ they wig
bino dead, he got shot in his sh*t
q, dead, dumb n*gga twitched
shoutout lil melly, lil’ bro was a glitch
we was troopin’ through harlem, like lilo and stitch
like, he better move from his b*tch
“e*wokk, e*wokk” say it back imma fl!ck
he better move from his b*tch
“e*wokk, e*wokk” say it back imma**
lee, fro, they always hit the target
like, that’s why i love ’em the hardest
yeah i still fl!ck even though i’m an artist
see a makk’, that’s on bro we gon’ park it (die makk)
me and 40, you fl!ckin’ they wrist
fatboy lucky, he a b*tch
like, he saw the g and he dipped
he almost died, how the f*ck do they diss?
[chorus]
melly the ‘ooter, he blazin’ for peter
step back with the ball, he a cheater
how many times we done threw on the kreepers?
can’t leave ’til he hit, ain’t no sh*t you could teach us
.38 special, it won’t leave a sh*ll
don’t try to run, bullets hotter than h*ll
if sh*t gettin’ sticky, i call up the l
me and [?] too deep, we gave pop a [?]
it’s one in the head, i don’t gotta c*ck it
up with two hands on a makk’ then you flock it
gun didn’t cl!ck, i had to socket
.32 special, it fit in my pocket
so many vics, but they wanna rap
pop, we left him flat on his back (beat the sh*t out that n*gga)
naz, smacked with the back of the cap
ek shot, he got holes in his back (get the f*ck up ek)
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