Lyrics:
I told migo just bring 'em
I'ma wrap and send 'em
And that don't belong to me
Mail it back to sender
Is it boy? Is it girl?
I don't know the gender
I
get it tossed
Young boys hug corners all night get it off
Get it on niggas on your strip
Has to give a lotta
(9 millimeter go bang) then you get it lost
arrested again I won't get a B - O - N - D
I'd rather die then live life in the Penitentary
But these days you gotta be strapped
Even when I'm at home I
no doubt that we're
Rockin' it... rockin' it
Now, goin' one-by-one
Individually we'll rhyme to expand the fun
So clear yourself from
dir fließt Blut (ey, ey)
Blicky, Ruger
Drive-by aus dem Uber (skrrt)
Ich bin connected in NY
Meine Shooter sind immer auf Stand-by (ey)
Pull' up
This the grill what up get em Pace
Lets get 'em in
Girls are like little boys
I'm Michael Jackson I touch em
Guns are like flat tires to
Me I fricken'
carbine from Haiti
Long AR-15s, N 76 K (bow)
I can tell that that's the gun boys by the headlights
Quick quick, buss a quick left right
If they're still
and rung alarms with it
And nowadays I've aged, so I'm calm with it
But I'm the reason Flex started droppin them bombs with it
Up by the club love thugs
sprayed by poetic machine gun
Acknowledge existence of a prodigy born son
Even the odds divide come up with the sum
And the remainder will be one
sons, leak shit, we come wit tons
You could never see these ones, just our mothafuckin guns
[Chorus] 2x
[All] M-I-double-S-I-N Linx, Missin In Action
I knew bout bad and boujee since doug remember Bebe
I been so nice with this since niggas burnt CDs
Since hide n go get it these boppers use to give
grindin for the high stakes
Your babes, flat pancakes, my women got ass like Gomez
My boys never talk, they interrogate
No face no case never let the cops
[Mike C]
Well I'm a million dollar boy and a billion dollar man
and if you got it I can get it with a wave of my hand
Got a voice so nice never say
lame since the 6th grade dues have been payed there’s no deny’n myka 9 got ways rhythm is a slave just like jones grace we just steady stylin move out
lights
Run from the gun and turn the music on
A new satellite gets ready to ignite
As a sad poet writes the story of your life
Only time will tell what
of the compton funk
Hoo-bangin' with a pistol grip pump
Buckin' shots in your body boy, buck
For poppin' that lip service, now your lookin' nervous, uh
Muthafuckas
kill your all ass Slob, you better get my shit back
I bust your ass my muthafuckin' ?? nigga"
[AWOL]
By now you should know that this is the be -K,
a La-Z-Boy sofa
I'm stackin' paper I'm makin'
I'm makin' paper I'm stackin', these hatin' niggas tryin' to do a jackin'
But I'm decappin', the first nigga I
threw like the prettiest
Big boy Benz, 500-S series
Dump him for the love of money, by the root of O.J.'s
'Bout it to half smoke Philly comin' out
kill your all ass Slob, you better get my shit back
I bust your ass my muthafuckin' ?? nigga"
[AWOL]
By now you should know that this is the be -K,
My heads been hurtin since 83'
Since birth my mommas been afraid of me
I was raised by the streets
I was made to be a young nigga makein cash so
Yeah! I'm up early in the day time. Catchin worms then I throw them by the wayside
Ayy what's the word? Living young, ain't tryna waste time
make the glocks sound
(Nigga we got it locked out)
(Y'all niggas is popped out)
We're raw 'n diggy Caveliti
(All city)
(And this here, what we call
the Psych stay high
Psych Ward Wreckless Klan S.P.C. till I die
And BITCH, we move something, your ass will get stomped
My partner Q-Boy gotta muthafuckin
.jpg/300px-GNR_London_Stadium_2017_3_(cropped).jpg "Guns N' Roses")
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