7 Days A Week
7 Days A Week

Doe Boy, Southside - 7 Days A Week Lyrics

11
7 Days A Week Music Video

7 Days A Week Lyrics

They be talkin' gangsta shit, but we know they sweet (pussies)
We gon' spin the fuckin' block seven days a week, ayy (brrt)
They just do this shit for play-play, we play for keeps, ayy (fool)
I ain't gotta shoot at you no more, I pay for beef
Gang! (Doe Beezy)

Choppin' down your block, them youngins come through with them cutters (brrt-brrt, brrt)
Rubber band, Murder Gang, young ign'ant motherfuckers (gang, gang-gang)
They be doin' all the sneak dissin', never touch us (fool)
They know better not spin around this way, they got us fucked up (oh really?!)
Got me fucked up, I'm the same Doe Beezy from back then (Doe Beezy)
I was like nine years old, wanted a MAC-10 (nah, for real)
Me and yo' main, we smashin', me and Young Blaze the blast twins (yeah, yeah, gang)
Take the plug out soon as we hear the pack in
Said they is my niggas, these niggas mad I'm out here shinin' (yeah)
Only thing that's at my neck is Eliantte diamonds (damn)
RBMG be mobbin' (gang, gang, gang, gang), I can't stop them boys from robbin' (no-no)
Your business, better mind it, 'fore them boys shoot where your mind is
Wipe a nigga nose, he think he slatt (slatt), slow him what slime is (slatt, slatt, slatt)
Opps be on the track, say this and that, tell 'em what mine did
Bodies droppin' back to back to back, you know what time it is (brrt, brrt)
Catch a body in Cleveland, then might post up at Lebron crib (Lebron crib)
Or I might go to Odell Beckham house, ooh, I'm flexin' now
That bitch you love a groupie, she just happy we be textin' now (fool)
Them boys in the hood murder lanes, we bring them stretchers out
He said, "Doe let me out," you know I let him out (skrrt!)
'Cause I can't ride in traffic with no nigga that ain't 'bout it (nope, nope)
Shot him in his face, surprised they knew him when they found him
Play with big Doe Beezy, I'ma X 'em out like Malcolm
If you ain't tryna spin round and round, you can't be 'round them (you think I'm playin?)
Bodies add, subtractin', multiplyin', might surround 'em
Yeah they ass be slime but they don't score you better not count them (brrt-brrt, brrt)
We up but I forget who just died, ain't even count him (hahaha!)
Yo, Doe Beezy's chillin' 'cause his ice be chillin', better not doubt him
You know them boys gon' blast for me, you play me it's a tragedy (gang, it's a tragedy!)
Let me out early, I know Justin and Berg mad at me (haha!)
She made a mistake, I'm out here tweakin', who wan' battle me? (Gang, gang!)
Nah, I ain't talkin' 'bout no rappin', I'm speakin' actually (oh really?)
And everythin' I really be talkin', it be factually (it be factually)
Shopped with the plug and he know better, don't put no tax on me (don't put no tax on me, bitch)
I'm drunk as fuck, boolin' with a couple racks on me (Freebandz)
All black Hellcat, Doja Cat mad at me (fool)
War time, nigga bring them choppas out (brrt, brrt)
Tryna invest in real estate and bought my opp's mama's house (ah!)
We gon' pull up with them Ks, you better move your mama out
Your bitch a groupie, you should log into her page and sign her out (oh really?!)
Got a young nigga, with a fuckin' TEC, he don't want no check (brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt)
He just want some respect (brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt)
Wake up, bodies gettin' catch, tryna found out who next (yeah, yeah-yeah)
Say it's up, it's a bet (oh really?!)

They be talkin' gangsta shit, but we know they sweet (pussies)
We gon' spin the fuckin' block seven days a week, ayy (brrt)
They just do this shit for play-play, we play for keeps, ayy (fool)
I ain't gotta shoot at you no more, I pay for beef
Gang! (Doe Beezy)

Writer(s): Cotrell Dennard, Joshua Luellen
Copyright(s): Lyrics © ARENA MUSIC PUBLISHING, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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