Lyrics:
of siren's
As he lay there on the ground
Then old Rex opened up his eyes
And nodding gave me one last shaky grin
Looks like he got to ride em one last time
God and
Said come get it back in blood
Is that me saying I'm evil or
Nothing more than excuse?
I been living for twenty-three years and
Still ignoring
The record is playing the crowd is moving
Pump up the bass in the place
Party people, no time to waste
No matter how fast you walk I am faster
Don't let me get
and 'Chine Gun was packing dimes
Coke spot, I had at least 100 and a line
Sell another brick and we copping twin fives (skrrt)
Ayo, out in Daytona, Rolex
shoot boy I don't aim
100 rounds in the clip I just spray shit
Give a fuck who I hit boy they with you
You was talking all the shit nigga tissue
Put ass
Midnight falling, sunrise closing in on me
All my senses tell me I must agree with
Crazy people, with crazy minds
Have I said too much?
Did I put you
might earn respect
But the OPD found it hard to accept
I got jacked by the [unverified]
Face down on the ground, keep my hands in sight
Put
Chorus
Yo we puttin in this work/ we put 'em in the dirt/ the pastor still preachin/ all up in the church Pallbearers put your fuckin body in
Judo
Yea
We only going to sleep when we get money
We only beefin' in person these niggas don't want it
You only ridin' with me if you tottin' 100
You
nah, he ain't got it on
We catch him out of bounds, weak camp, they hit the ground
Got guns in every city for smoke that's out of town
Forever load
pushed on
Put your ear to the ground for stepping on bush stones
What's wrong? Didn't think we strong with real niggas?
Roll like a boss, in the streets
Young boy in charge, 309 on the map
And I come from the city where muhfuckas blast
I ain't talking guns, but them Boys still be popping
Lil love
It's a shame how I rap so bananas, it's Mr. Two-Gun un
Mother fuckers better cock back them hammers
You might catch me in the drop blowin' pop wit
Homeboy in the fed, a hundred twenty months (ten)
He be down by three, get out a couple months
I gotta quit fucking with you
I can read between
go by the name King Braize
I specialize at putting ink to the page
Beautiful gift but yet it keeps me in rage
Because the music I make and things that
her, uh
Brand new money
Run up on me, chopper hoppin' like a bunny
I don't walk it, I run it
Keep it one hundred
Headshot, headshot, drive-by in a Hummer
gone run you down
Lil Dump know some real steppers they'll really gun you down
I'm in town on that valley side get served 100 pounds
Them niggas
All this drip on me make me pacific
Bitch we in our own bracket we don't meet statistics
I'll put a red beam on an outsider
100 shots no misses who you
A couple grands im talking
Not no silly hundreds
Put that shit in the coffin
Cause I ain't no silly hoe
All these niggas sending shots
They don't even
to show them
Times in my life that felt like I wasn't controlling
Put them on the ground while I watch that shit burning
Chains dragging all my problems
hustle dog, greenhouse ins and outs
Hustler by nature homie, up and down survived droughts
Avoided getting dimed out in the system on time out
My life is
bring it I'm callin y'all
You already know what it's about when I run up in your house
Put the gun up in your mouth and get the money out the couch
all I'm chasing My money
Carbon 15 hold a whole 100
Real cocaine got yo nose running
1k been in the streets better ask About me
Why you clutching you
Yeah, check it
Yo yeah I smoke weed now I don't give a fuck
And I also tote guns in case my dram pop up
It's crew love I spit two at every few
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