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lirik lagu 300 raccs – otm

[pesos]
i dont got no time for these broke n*ggas
300 thousand that’s the price n we gon go get em
throw em in that duffle who was those n*ggas
it get hot in h*ll’s kitchen we got heaters on em
white sheets up on em gang deep we all creepin on em
he’s a store runner and still caught a whole hunnid
i’m getting anxious wet em up we finna baptize em
his shirt they can’t find it addicted to the street violence
this ain’t street fighter made him box these three minors
like come and show me what you want cause you ain’t bout nothing
he got his baby momma chipped that’s for clout chasin
now take that sh*t off you know that sh*t is out dated
yo b*tch is my favorite stinc team is most hated
like here’s a cliff hanger leave him in a dark bas*m*nt
i got no manners riding round with two whammers
gang n em be hoppin out them trucks we be flu fammin
i crack heads and bust sh*lls we don’t crack cars
give him nine to his back i think he [?]
we know the truth he been a b*tch please don’t act hard
chop sticks in the back that’s from kim [?]
he thought he seen the grim reaper in that black don
like if i shoot this n*gga up would i be dead wrong?
cause if i see some jewelry imma act on it
we got guns in here b*tch so just act normal
most these n*ggas droppin dimes they can’t act loyal
f*ck that n*gga and his kids put the smack on em
i got a fat forty hit em like he stole from us
dough knockin for a safe with a black hoodie
i need the fee up out the b*tch i don’t need groupies
it’s a fully on this chop and we shoot bullies
i stripped the pints off the plug i ain’t pay nothin
it’s hood day spin the block you hear the k bussin
and for the mean muggers n*ggas don’t want no smoke with me
load the clips make em flip i think my chrome dizzy
the way my nina f*cked the crowd she is so pretty
ian step nowhere i can’t bring guns with me
[duffy]
n*ggas know what’s goin on i ain’t explainin sh*t
why the police on my d*ck i ain’t sayin sh*t
opps say my name i couldn’t wait for this
oh it’s beef this big drake got the taste for this
i’m just a lil different i be with them real k!llers
if any n*gga got a problem come and deal with it
know we bringin blammers in they told me i’m too talented
them shoes fly bro don’t make me strip you out of em
k!lled em off on accident i’m up it ain’t no balancin
go against the team n*gga finna see how bad it get
froze a n*gga quick bounced out now he’s a mannequin
he [?] us let’s show that boy a magic trick
he in love with the opps be deceased with em
heard he trust b*tches imma make her cheat on him
i’m in love with my drum so i sleep with it
he ain’t never seen a hunnid we got three of em
he ain’t make it give him props cuz he held his own
double decker get him wrong double [?] get him gone
scoop us in the rolls we got home girls for pippy long
ion think he want no problems when we in that mode
smokin on average joe these n*ggas know whats goin on
n*ggas tellin that’s some sh*t ian ever doin
catch me strapped up in traffic slappin nervous music
i just bopped on sue young i got another buddha
n*ggas actin like some hoes i’ll b*tch slap em
he must’ve heard i’m off the muscle n*ggas get crackin
pop it on the gram who up stick faster
these just the rhymes of a n*ggas who should quit rappin
tried to run a play he got blitzed after
that police ass sh*t you did we can’t skip past it
is she really worth your life? do that b*tch matter?
if we talkin la rap i’m a big factor
soft ass n*gga he’s a teletubby
he gon learn bet this glock’ll teach him how to dougie
n*gga ran his mouth a lot now he runnin from us
stealin drip i think he work up in the chum bucket
givin mean faces he got hit with tricky ball play
n*ggas fakin i don’t want to get involved with em
what’s up in my cup it’s an awful lot of cough syrup
you ain’t on money don’t call n*ggas sorry fam
n*ggas walkin fine lines don’t go outta bounds
a young legend in these streets n*gga watch your mouth
n*gga doin all that staring get him followed out
i think my ears starting to tweak them chops get loud
i told em settle down bro we got you [?]
if p shootin i’m shootin n*gga off the bat
come across the muscle he ain’t comin back

[drakeo]
grab the suit and tie, had to do it to ’em
i ain’t giving all my time to a goofy n*gga
drop a hundred k on a loser n*gga (laudiano)
the first n*gga send a mug, i’ma crucify him
when you with the team, know it’s do or die
hope you keep that same energy when it’s you and i
water on my neck, i went scuba diving
this nina f*cking everybody, put the coochie on ’em
kamikaze thoughts, but the doors are suicidal
if rami did your pieces, why you always gotta ask sizing?
don’t got the same check, when i flex, i remind n*ggas
back up off my jewelry, it’ll blind n*ggas, i’m different
if we hooping, sh*t get stupid, is you high, n*gga?
pull up at a n*gga school and columbine n*ggas
shooters in the cut with the shy glizzy
the mac’s supersized, a n*gga up and fried ’em
i’m buddies with tom, i need my sp*ce
find me boosting up the crime rate if crime pays
the last n*gga lost his head talking ’bout i’m g*y
shots fired, hitting hard as bombay
these streets, i got the key to, n*gga, santé
my flu flammer n*ggas know my feng shui
double ds on the chop, sh*t get naughty
put the beam on a n*gga, ask scotty
here, put this bag in your stomach, n*gga, potty
.223 sh*lls, ain’t carrying no shotty
got shanaynay in the whip, she’s a hottie
b*tch, i’m drakeo, i am not no role model, i’m hot*headed
can a dog get a bone? pippi long made him drop dead
i ain’t even finna play with a stock clip
catch me beating on his head with these chop rounds
he tried to eat a two piece and got knocked down
heard my presence in the room, make the spot hot
i ain’t worried ’bout these n*ggas, i got my chop
foreigns on the corner, b*tch, this my block
confirmed k!lls, we ain’t sending out no pop shots
couple mops in the car, i’m with the shotters
if you go against the team, you don dada
talk beef, we gon’ turn it into lobster
ruth’s chris, i just caught another body
i’m partying with lil’ meech, we at papi’s
that’s the mob, b*tch, i feel like john gotti
all i need is ben franklin aside me
bruce lee kicks, this chopper know karate
work him out, n*gga should’ve knew pilates
you’s a b*tch and them n*ggas you with caca
two chains on, i’m finna start a riot
get the uchies, now my insta’ going private
never speak on what you really do in private
any n*gga can get touched with the midas
from california, in my city, i’m an icon
los scandalous, i grew up with the pythons
i get dough, i be kicking it with tyquan
he portraying he a k!ller ’cause his mic on
bygones be bygones, i’m not that guy
i can’t be that high, gold bottles, baptize ’em
n*ggas get wrapped for me, f&ns and macs on me
do i even gotta say three hundred racks by me?
n*ggas get wrapped for me, f&ns and macs on me
do i even gotta say three hundred racks on me? ugh
sh*t, you know the truth

- otm

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