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100 bars mixx - sigilxxet lyrics

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d*mn, i done dropped the k
you send shots, they fly straight in the air, well, mine’s flyin’ straight
i done whipped that pistol out on dog and shot him in his face
glock 10 take a n*gga out to eat like it’s tryna date
.45 quick to first 48 a n*gga after i pour an eight
pop a bean, sip eight ounces of lean, sh*t, i might die today
my b*tch d*mn near thought i died last night, but i survived the drank
hit the drank before we sealed the plastic, sh*t, you probably can’t
d*mn, that’s embarrassin’
i done popped four pills a day, i’m out, i’ll k!ll for medicine
f*ck around and robbed the white house for a stash of bricks
‘causе they flooded the streets with bricks and guns way back in ’86
my dog just hit mе up, he got like eighty bricks
but he stepped them hoes too many times, he got like maybe six
i’ll teejayx6 a n*gga, scam him out his rent
my chopper brown, sh*t like that n*gga chris, get pressed into his lips
b*tch, i’ma die a legend
sending shots, you catch ’bout four for free and you gon’ die stressin’
this b*tch p*ssy fit two ounces, she a nice stretcher
on my way to— i can’t say his name, she need a nice gesture
this b*tch done took way more than what she need, i had a fight with her
i beat her ass and kicked her out the whip next to the night ‘spital
whip the socks for three hours straight, now she gon’ die crippled
love my opps, they always with somebody who gon’ die with ’em
free lil dub, used to hit punches, jugg slides with him
you was out in cary christian cookin’ up pies with me
i’m goated, n*gga, if you don’t love the bands, then you can’t ride with me
i’m goated, n*gga, if you ride with the opps, then you gon’ die with ’em
b*tch, i’m a k user
my n*gga stole some guns from toronto, b*tch, this drac’ music
my n*gga said he f*cked with “who fed,” he made some plays to it
cleaned my closet out before i f*cked her, these b*tches stay boostin’
d*mn, these b*tches stay choosin’
she asked me could she f*ck, it ain’t surprise me ’cause we stay coolin’
she asked me what i do for a livin’, b*tch, i’m the state looter
you lied your age to shake the block p*ssy, but you a fake shooter
my brother asked me for a deuce and i smacked his ass
my mom asked for a thousand, i gave it to her, but it made me sad
i glad wrapped the work and hit the stash, then i made it back
been shakin’ n*ggas’ box since i could read, so, n*gga, do the math

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