LFP (feat. PF_Jayy)

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Mac 11

The MAC-11 (Military Armament Corporation Model 11) is a machine pistol/submachine gun developed by American firearm designer Gordon Ingram at the Military Armament Corporation (MAC) during the 1970s in Powder Springs, Georgia, United States. The weapon is a sub-compact version of the Model 10 (MAC-10), and is chambered to fire the smaller .380 ACP round.This weapon is sometimes confused with the Sylvia & Wayne Daniels M-11/9, its successor the Leinad PM-11, or the Vulcan M-11-9, both of which are later variants of the MAC chambered for the 9 mm Parabellum cartridge. Cobray also made a .380 ACP variant called the M12. more »

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I'm goin' crazy, Bumpin' to Lil Baby I'm goin' 180, my memories hazy, you cryin
Like a baby We hittin' a lick on chico, I say maybe Rico
He gon pull up with a 450 add a seven after that you complete
F*ck on that bitch and I let off like three Hit him in the eye, my boy, you can't see
You wearin' blue so you must throw up C
Color him red, put that boy out on a Tee Moscato sippin', I'm sippin' some tea
And brothers know I'm reppin' L.F.P
Goin' to Texas, I'm catchin' a G Moscato sippin', I'm sippin' some tea
And brothers know I'm reppin' L.F.P
Goin' to Texas, I'm catchin' a G Goin' to Texas, I'm catchin' a G
You know I pop out with a .43
Air yo ass out while you in BNB
Pull up on you and I f*ck on your B
You know I'm chillin' with Glock 23's
Shoot your ass up, all you can do is freeze
In the Hellcat, windows down feel the breeze
Rob a nigga, my boy get all the cheese
Okay, Mac 11, wearin' the Nike Fleece
With this thick bitch and her name is Denise
That boy really smoked him up like a tree
How much that shit cost
My nigga 4 G's
Drivin' down town and my wheels is Forgis
Run up on them with a AR-15
Let that shit rip, hit they lungs they can't breathe
I'm goin' crazy, Bumpin' to Lil Baby I'm goin' 180, my memories hazy, you cryin
Like a baby We hittin' a lick on chico, I say maybe Rico
He gon pull up with a 450 add a seven after that you complete
F*ck on that bitch and I let off like three Hit him in the eye, my boy, you can't see
You wearin' blue so you must throw up C
Color him red, put that boy out on a Tee Moscato sippin', I'm sippin' some tea
And brothers know I'm reppin' L.F.P
Goin' to Texas, I'm catchin' a G
Hit him with an F-150
Send that boy up to heaven
His name is just Devon, like
The color of that T-shirt, that shit is just red
Brodie was chattin' mad hard like a fed
You up the chrome and point that to his head
Brody took Eight now he on a deathbed
R.S Rico, he gon' pull up with ten
He was trappin' every since he turned ten
Throw up L.F.P while we in the den
L.F.P.K., they sayin' now they dead

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