lirik lagu big 30 – p yungin
big 30 lyrics
[intro]
boom, boom*boom*boom*boom*boom*boom
boom*boom*boom*boom*boom*boom
f*ck that glock .23, i’m tryna use that .30
big .30
(k4 produced it)
baow*baow*baow*baow*baow
pull up to that boy mama, shoot up where he stay (grrt, grrt, grrt)
p right, huh?
grrt, baow*baow*baow, grrt, grrt
[chorus]
f*ck that glock .23, i’m tryna use that .30
you got that bag up on yo’ head, he pull up where you stay
and to that dead n*gga, that got hit up, up in his face
wasn’t even my work, so i ain’t gon’ speak up on that f*cking case
i’ll make a junkie drink a beer, speak on gang and you get k!lled
put you on union street, now your back under some f*ckin’ d*mn wheels
same n*gga front on gang, that same n*gga gon’ get drilled
n*gga, f*ck yo’ gang and i’ll blow his head off all on the f*cking d*mn steering wheel
[verse 1]
why the f*ck you keep on calling my d*mn phone? b*tch
ain’t you a grown b*tch?
i just want some dome, b*tch
if you think i’ma bone you, b*tch, they way it spray, it’s a hundred percent
weed got me smoking, choking and sh*t
i’ma gangster, i’m steady reloading my sh*t
when a car pass, i’m just holding my sh*t
catch that boy, explode to the b*tch
if he run, then my choppa gon’ cl!ck
if a opp pass, i’ma spray at the b*tch
with a ar, thought i had me a l!ck
no ludacris, i’ma knock off his wig
4ktre murda bih
that boy evil here, aim all at your kid
[chorus]
f*ck that glock .23, i’m tryna use that .30
you got that bag up on yo’ head, he pull up where you stay
and to that dead n*gga, that got hit up, up in his face
wasn’t even my work, so i ain’t gon’ speak up on that f*cking case
i’ll make a junkie drink a beer, speak on gang and you get k!lled
put you on union street, now your back under some f*ckin’ d*mn wheels
same n*gga front on gang, that same n*gga gon’ get drilled
n*gga, f*ck yo’ gang and i’ll blow his head off all on the f*cking d*mn steering wheel
[verse 2]
b*tch, i’m on my body
i’m on my top
talkin’ out your body them hallows will rip your top
like a snake, b*tch, i’m a python, i’ll pull up send a drop
p*ssy b*tch n*gga just bad ’cause i got diamonds, b*tch, don’t flop
fake ass pop sews
n*gga, you ain’t no gangster, n*gga stop
on your every sudden move
p*ssy b*tch n*gga like you a clock
plus, i’m smokin’ on this juice, this sh*t so poo
cos, got your b*tch up on my c*ck
ain’t no beef if you ain’t k!ll none of the opps
[chorus]
f*ck that glock .23, i’m tryna use that .30 (.30)
you got that bag up on yo’ head, he pull up where you stay (bah*bah)
and to that dead n*gga, that got hit up, up in his face (bah)
wasn’t even my work, so i ain’t gon’ speak up on that f*cking case
i’ll make a junkie drink a beer, speak on gang and you get k!lled
put you on union street, now your back under some f*ckin’ d*mn wheels
same n*gga front on gang, that same n*gga gon’ get drilled
n*gga, f*ck yo’ gang and i’ll blow his head off all on the f*cking d*mn steering wheel
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