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lirik lagu steppers – tee grizzley & skilla baby

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[intro: tee grizzley & sk!lla baby]
you be talkin’ ’bout me to the n*ggas run with you
then see me out and d*ck suck and now them boys uncomfortable
now all the real steppers up your bl!ck in this b*tch
every n*gga i don’t like gettin’ stripped in this b*tch
huh?
ayy (h*lluva made this beat, baby)
hmm

[chorus: sk!lla baby]
now all the real steppers up your bl!ck in this b*tch
i hope a b*tch n*gga get pistol*whipped to this sh*t
every n*gga i don’t like gettin’ stripped in this b*tch
any sudden move, boy, you gettin’ hit with this bl!ck, b*tch
every n*gga in here jack sh*t and take hits
my lil’ n*gga whack sh*t, he don’t wanna take pics
if you wanna beat that body, then you better hirе blake, jit
my lil’ n*ggas bake sh*t, you bettеr send that pape’, b*tch

[verse 1: sk!lla baby]
every n*gga in here with me clique and catch bodies
if i tell ’em i don’t like you, then you gettin’ stretched probably
simple math, subtract n*ggas, it ain’t sh*t to solve a problem
and if you hidin’ and i want you, i’m puttin’ this sh*t on your mama
and if you wanna be around the gang, catch a body, n*gga
hop up in that striker with me, we them young n*ggas ’round the city
catch him out and hit him, k!ll everything with him
oh, they p*ssed? have my lil’ n*gga sic ’em
no kizzy, every time i go slide, my lil’ n*ggas go with me
we be huntin’ sh*t, hop out, bustin’ sh*t around the city
i get busy, i can’t let a n*gga trick me, this sh*t tricky
i don’t want no borin’ gun, i want a fully or a switchy, b*tch, i’m picky
[chorus: sk!lla baby & tee grizzley]
now all the real steppers up your bl!ck in this b*tch
i hope a b*tch n*gga get pistol*whipped to this sh*t
every n*gga i don’t like gettin’ stripped in this b*tch
any sudden move, boy, you gettin’ hit with this bl!ck, b*tch
every n*gga in here jack sh*t and take hits
my lil’ n*gga whack sh*t, he don’t wanna take pics
if you wanna beat that body, then you better hire blake, jit
my lil’ n*ggas bake sh*t, you better send that pape’, b*tch (oh, yeah)

[verse 2: tee grizzley & sk!lla baby]
ayy, glocks in the air, glocks in the air (talkin’ ’bout 9s, 40s, four*fives, put them b*tches in the air)
shots at his hair, we don’t send shots in the air (bah, bah)
chops in the air, chops in the air (aks, dracs, n*gga, arps, n*gga, what up?)
try to box in this b*tch and get you boxed like some squares (bah)
got money, but they b*tches, catch ’em slippin’, take that rollie off (give me that)
he been talkin’ crazy, but he hidin’, what his homie cost? (okay)
b*tch, we from the d, we don’t say taco, duck your coney dog (bah)
thought he was a demon, sk!lla nailed him to the holy cross (p*ssy*ass)
my n*ggas be on street sh*t (yeah), headshot, sleep quick (yeah)
cook up all the beef sh*t (yeah), crime in the d sh*t (oh, yeah)
these n*ggas really dumb enough to go against some millionaires (okay)
i’m talkin’ they catch you in somerset and they gon’ k!ll you there (brr, huh?)

[chorus: sk!lla baby]
now all the real steppers up your bl!ck in this b*tch
i hope a b*tch n*gga get pistol*whipped to this sh*t
every n*gga i don’t like gettin’ stripped in this b*tch
any sudden move, boy, you gettin’ hit with this bl!ck, b*tch
every n*gga in here jack sh*t and take hits
my lil’ n*gga whack sh*t, he don’t wanna take pics
if you wanna beat that body, then you better hire blake, jit
my lil’ n*ggas bake sh*t, you better send that pape’, b*tch
[outro: tee grizzley]
b*tch, we from the d, we don’t say taco, duck your coney dog

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