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strategy - zide! lyrics

[verse 1: j.t.m.a]
the pack feed, the pack feed, the pack feed
the pack feed, the pack feed
strollin’ through your hood without no casualty
i lean ’round the cash and i take it from ’em happily
i be in the field, plot thinking of a strategy
’cause i might have to walk a n*gga down without no cavalry
strip a n*gga salary, i’m taking all his gatherings
[?] speakin’ s*xually, i’m tryna get the bag i see
skips up out the foreign, imma [?] casualty
i got it in my sh*t before this sh*t becomes a tragedy
sh*t becomes a tragedy, my n*ggas finna rattle me
minority, squad players like a heavily
i go out with a bang and n*ggas know i load a weapon [?]
my n*ggas moving step in place, stay ahead of ’em
[?] in them halls man, i ain’t going back
pull up on the traps while i hit it from the back
n*ggas gettin’ mad ’cause i’m running up a bag
if a n*gga want the static automatic get to blasting
opposition tryna slide but we gon’ leave a n*gga parked
i was [?] in the fuel i use in after dark
n*ggas don’t wanna slide, these n*ggas lame these n*ggas marks
if i talk about the sh*t i’ve been through where do i even start
’cause i’m about to go r*t*rded, gotta finish what i started
brodie talkin’ on the net and i ain’t liking at the mark
if a n*gga get to chippin’ imma have to let it spark
maybe tryna do a drill, just know the bullets go far
better hit all your targets
[chorus: j.t.m.a & zide!]
strollin’ through your hood without no casualty
i lean ’round the cash and i take it from ’em happily
i be in the field, plot thinking of a strategy
’cause i might have to walk a n*gga down without no cavalry
strip a n*gga salary, i’m taking all his gatherings
[?] speakin’ s*xually, (d*mn) i’m tryna get the bag i seez
skips up out the foreign (wait), imma [?] casualty (mmmm)
i got it in my sh*t before this sh*t becomes a tragedy

[verse 2: zide!]
hop on this beat so you know that i snapped in it
rapping it, open that medicine cabinet
taking his yurt so you know that sh*t too legit
up in a poll so you know that i’m shooting sh*t
y’all wit a [?] glock got a ruler clip
don’t flash that gun if you know you not shooting sh*t
run up on me, i’m with the crew and sh*t
i got the gash just like i’m a jew and sh*t
hold on, wait, that sh*t don’t even make sense
aye, pour up a four and then pour up some more
now we cookin’ this sh*t like a motherf*cking smore
hold up, i know that i said that before
but i’ll say it again ’cause that sh*t was hard
one foot in your grave, one foot in your face
i’m stompin’ you, the 45’s they is chomping you
you in that car so i pull out the heat, now stopping you
d*mn, wait, hold on, wait
red light, i ain’t a blood but i’m pollin’ some red
i got the blues that don’t make me a fed
you on your ass and i’m still making bread
don’t play with them shooters, get hit in your head
stay with the bread just like i’m a baker
brand new choppa, it came with a laser
people kept hating this shocking that sh*t like a taser
now i’m on your ass and you call me a glazer?
up in your hood with a razor
up in your b*tch and she loving a player
owning this b*tch man, i feel like the mayor
f*cking a freak and i pull on her hair
come in with snipers best lit for the glare
up in the court i said i wasn’t there
but b*tch, i’m a liar

- zide lyrics

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