Gully

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J. Finesse

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Its the return
This heat finna let it burn
The streets leave em decease
In sheets with no concern
South central baby
G’s Filippin a bird
No speach or peace treats
It’s summer we let it burn ugh
Foot on they kneck
I Keep applying pressure
Go steep another leval
Both feet pressing the pedal
Deep in the ghetto
Steaming just like a kettle
Whippin a smuckers jar just
Cook it and let it settle
Diminish these wack rappers
free styling when twacked rappers
Pistol tote rappers won’t pull it or clap rappers
Don’t trust bitches
These Front for the gram bitches
These F*ck the whole gang bitches
Don’t know who the dad bitches
This fns and
Loyal to my fam that’s a blessing
Don’t f*ck with these gram trappers
That stay on the cam flexing
No steady money they pockets is fluctuating
Off the pills they acting crazy
I’ll tell you why they be hating
bitch I’m
Gully
Gully
Gully
Gully
I’m outside
You speaking you go ride
I been said I’m bout mines
Don’t stare at a dogs eyes
The most fly
I’m leeching this 45
The hottest f*ck co signs
This heater don’t blow dry
On these beats I’m a killa homie all facts
On my lap there’s a nina on me all at
I breeze cool like a freezer homie no cap
I really miss my boy Cesar homie you know that)
in the trenches with felons
I know these bitches be tellin
They pull a pistol
spot an op and let the bullets start yelling
Up In the gutter I dwell in
Where the dope they be selling
They pull a pistol
Spot an op and let the bullets start yelling
The feds got my phone tapped
tf I’m gone do
Fake the IP address on all my cellars too
I got you

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