A FullBellyBreadHead (feat. Youngin' E)

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FBG Benzo

3:13

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I'm from a city where young nigga runnin' shit, aye
I'm from a city where young nigga gunnin' shit
I'm on yo block wit a chop got a hunnid' clip
He spoke down on the set time to punish him
Spoke down on the mob so I'm cuttin' him
Slashin' faces not tires I'm punkin' him
He a clown like McDonald's not lovin' it
Carve a smile on his face now what's funny bitch
I laugh at my opps we ain't duckin' shit
I put one in his face like he 50 cent
I knock out all his teeth I'm the dentist bitch
Leave him blue and orange like a hoover crip
I get groovy but I ain't no hoover crip
I'm a belly demon I be runnin' shit
Don't need me a strap Ima bust his lip
I be using my hands I don't need a stick
I don't need a stick but I got one
And my brotha told me go and pop sum
All these niggas fakin' like a opossum
If he a street preacher he a false one
Got a street sweeper Ima drop sum
Like a Percocet I'm finna pop sum
Bro say he gangsta but he not one
If he play wit my people it's red rum
When I get the pack's I say god send
Drippin' holy water like a faucet
Been a real hitta since I hopped in
And I'm still goin' ain't no stoppin'
When yo homie got shot you ain't stop shit
Then yo brotha got jumped you ain't hop in
Say you hardbody you is not stiff
Pussy boy you from Plano not Oak Cliff
You ain't from Crooked City you from Calallen
You a country boy you is not bout it
Intercept the play then I reroute it
You new to this I been round it
You new to this shit I grew up around it
As some youngins my cousins was hella violent
My auntie was smoking my unc supplied it
Throwin' G's when you see us we all about it
Throw up Breadhead cause I'm bout profit
I know the plug tapped in the socket
Finna take off just like a rocket
I'm a cold nigga but I'm still the hottest
I'm a hot boy but I'm cold hearted
Out the muddy water where I first started
I'm playin chess gotta be the smartest
Ain't no rapper bitch I'm a true artist
I could paint you pictures of the trap house
Say you wanted smoke I put the ash out
He pulled a 38 I pulled a mac out
Had that boy runnin' call a track scout
Had him runnin' so I blew his back down
This a 45 it make them big sounds
Onomatopoeia boom clap pow
Ima keep on squeezin' till the last round
He jammed up in that squeeze check his background
He got folded by cops he a fed now
He been talkin' to laws got a big mouth
All in the hood takin' head counts
I got accuracy I make the lead count
XD on my hip it got 10 rounds
That's all I need to make his brain bounce
Hit that bottle at 8 made my cousin proud
My cuz in the pen but he comin' home
He a big dog kill you bout his bones
I was crashin' out when I was all alone
Ain't no big homie that can tell me no
I look to the sky when I feel alone
My big homie dead man I miss his soul
I ain't had nobody I was in the hole
F*ck the county jail system full of hoes
Free Mark, Lee, and Trigga Joe
It's still free G until they let him go
Tried to make him talk but his mouth sewed
All the dirt we did I won't tell a soul
Laws askin' questions, shit I don't know
They talkin' bout drugs, what the f*ck is coke
I ain't never seen him, he is not my bro
Knowin' damn well that's my patna though
Uhahaha
Ha, Like, I ain't ever seen that muffucka before
Ha, Nah I'm playin', that's Dee, that's my cousin
Uhahaha
What the f*ck that powder shit, that shit look like flour
Uhahaha
Ahh shit

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