Baby Reaper of ATL
4Joo
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Yeah Everybody left, but the pain is still here Everybody said they wasn't gon' leave But I'm out here by myself I feel like I'm isolated, locked up Nobody care, they don't give a f*ck I feel like I'm from Milwaukee I'll kill anything for my bucks (Yeah) Nigga talk he know what's up Nigga running out of luck I got a Glock on me Even in rush hour, I gotta keep it tucked She flock to me when I throw her bread I call that hoe a duck The Glock talked to me, I don't know what it said But imma' make you understand Nigga talking yeah, they know what's up I can't trust a bitch or a fucking slut They'll see any nigga wit' some money and they gon give it up Im coughing on this opp pack, yeah this some different stuff (Had to make it stuffed) I feel isolated But, I gotta keep that Glock on me Everybody talking shit, but I'm the only one that's not running Everybody talking shit, but I'm the only one that's got money Everybody talking shit, but I'm the only one that's not gon' tell when the cops coming My bitch gon' pop when I tell her pop for me I'm the only one that's gon' keep it real Ain't none of these niggas 100 These niggas say they got a bag on 'em But every time they get around me, yea, they want some I don't get it, I'm the hottest in the city Be 'bout yo' business before I go taking yo' bitches She don't hear shit you say But when she see my money, she gon' listen Keep on talking, before I pop twice at yo' fitted These niggas can keep talking, I don't give a f*ck 'bout no critics I'm a gravedigger Niggas ain't on shit, and you know that (Yeah, yeah) I'm 'bout my money It ain't shit to talk about I want a hundred right now So pussy nigga don't run yo' mouth (Yeah) I got a trackhawk, so I'm gon' catch you If you run around I got two fists, and the street If you want a round I'm up 5-0 and you'll know If we keeping count I shoot the Glock outside It don't matter, I just love the sound Pussy nigga we could flood the street It's all up to me You got yo' hoe by flashing money I can take the hoe for free Didn't yo' bitch ass tell when the cops was coming Yo' pussy ass think you something But I heard in yo' gang you ain't nothing but a crash dummy, and a store runner Didn't yo' bitch ass tell over 400 (Damn) And yo' ass wanna' joke around like some fuckin' shit funny Yo' ass always talking bands, but you fucking ran, soon as shit hit the fan I don't get it (Ha, ha, ha) As a matter of fact I don't want yo' bitch She f*ck wit' pussy niggas She a lesbian, cuz' she walk 'round with 2 pussies wit' her (How she got 2?) I'm talking 'bout the one between her legs, and you pussy nigga (How she got you?) I don't know, go figure (Pop) Nigga be switching sets (You a false flag, nigga) Nigga be begging hoes for sex (What you call that, nigga) You was wit' the blues, now you wit' the reds (Opp on Opp ass, nigga) Yo' bitch ass think this shit a game So I left yo' ass for dead (Yeah) Got to keep the money where I'm... Money where I'm at Real fat Pockets real fat Pockets real fat Pockets real fat Pockets real fat Real fat (Yeah)
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"Baby Reaper of ATL Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 Sep. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/11297944/4Joo/Baby+Reaper+of+ATL>.
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