Lyrics:
pissed off
Im wetting you up
You nighas Get pissed on
My nigha like jigsaw
They calling me racist
I hang with a lynch mob
Whole lotta gang shit
I
I want a girl with a bad attitude
And when Award Tour dropped I copped my first CD
By then this music took on a new meaning to me
I heard a way
And dat's on da Blocc nigga. However you wanna handle dat shit nigga.
[Brotha Lynch]
Look up in da sky! It's a muthafuckin slug!/
Some nigga done let one off
smoke your last pound
[Chorus 2Xs]
(If you smell any smoke it's just me and my homies gettin' blown)
And I was late gettin' home, intoxicated
Fight
sufficient
I done got it now I walk with the bag on me
Money talk, this the swag on me
Run it up, take a lap on em'
Why you hatin'? You so mad, homie
Beast
(twenty-five!), in the kitchen (cookin' food!)
Baby "We The Best", quit, hate the rest
Dade County, you name it (what up!)
You roll it, I like it (Ross!)
She
she likes me cause i'm iced out
Lil' baby
Do shots
Don't pay
I'm bad
She's crazy
Wait
Run it back
Like Lynch
Call shots
Like Brady
She's bad
I'm crazy
money, money, money, money ain't the motive
What's your name again? Nobody knows it
Don't speak to me nigga, you not important
I'm focused
They say I'm
and Fynn
A freckled-faced lad with the sea in his blood who never knew panic or fear
Perhaps that's why it was that they called him John Ross
John Ross with
checks, keep ice on our necks Shit, I want it on my wrist too
Are you happy to see me or is that a pistol
Girl, stop it, it's a three. five I'm counting
his neck
I'm tryin' to stack a grip so don't let me hit this dank
'Cause if I hit this dank, I'ma shoot me a bitch
Fuck it, *puff*, bang bang,
Five
you when im smoking reefer
But that don't mean that I don't care bout your feelings either
Ive been double crossed, stabbed out by some cheaters
Its
Came with the sauce
Like i'm sippin' out the voss
And they say I pop percs
But the percs pop off
And I lynch these rappers
Like a Rick no Ross
grandmother
Doesn't it look like she has a brother?
TJ reminds me, not to worry bout what man might say
Talking bout the problem ain't living by faith
Just
the Predator
It's gettin' dissed by the editor
Looked up and hell of white for caper
It's to lynch a nigga on paper
But I'm much too black for the god
Get it with my flow
You dude be writing y'all don't go
Harder than me off the dome
Tell em about your life
Tell em how you came up
I came up in zone
skilled
Propane sniffing
Young king of the hill
Casket by 35?
It's been real
Contraband loaded
In a GTO
Prosecutor put me
Six feet below
Congressman emulate
element, haven't sent
Or paid my dues nor paid the rent
Notoriety ain't content
No cry in me, I repent for my sins
It's a no, no, no where I live
If you aint
me put your hands up (hood)
My hood niggas can you stand up (I'm so hood)
If you not from here you can walk it out
And you not hood if you don't
will be fully engulfed by this Energy
I don't have enemies
I just have people who envy me
You can't handle this pressure
You on ya last knee
Just
unless you came to slob me
Come on kemosabe
It's past time, like your favorite hobby
Cause if the way that I spit shit remains on my dick
then she grab me
go)
Lets take it down south (lets go)
Yayo, ross
This is D- Block
This is D- Block
This is D- Block
This is D- Block DDDDD you know my name
( rick
have to take you downtown for some questionin'
Damn, a blessin in disguise if you ask me
I was just about to hit the highway with my last key
Could it be
I'm a boss
I did this shit by myself
Bitch I said
Fuck the cost
I been got rid
Of some pounds
Got me feelin
Like Ross
I can't stop
Gettin it now
.png/203px-Ross_Lynch_2_(cropped).png "Ross Lynch")
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