Lil Gnar ft. Trippie Redd - Missiles Lyrics

(D-Diego)
(B-B-Bankroll got it)
(Dig?)

Slurp it up, bitch, make it messy (yeah)
When I pull up, you hear the 'Vette (skrrt)
Baguettes, they fall off my neck
I'm smoking that Za to the chest (pressure)
Ran that shit up off the muscle (dig)
Walk with the Glock, I don't tussle (dig)
Niggas talk shit, it ain't nothing (for real)
Three hundred all cash how I'm coming (uh-huh)

I'm a real rockstar, came from the trenches
Now I got bitches on bitches on bitches (yeah, yeah)
Throw him the cutter, my young nigga hit you
He just gon' get your ass for a lil' fifty (yeah)
Ballin' out just like I'm Madden
Excuse my bad language, I think I'm the shit (yeah, for real)
Take a PJ out to Cali to grab some biscotti, it's smelling like piss
Doubled up, I'm pouring my stress in this double cup
Remember I ran my first hundred up (hundred up)
My Draco got titties, a honey bun (honey bun)
Shoot in the crowd, you ain't takin' my chain
Your ass finna crash out, you swerve in my lane (no cap)
Only do Guapanese, speaking that language (cash)
My young niggas Brims, they twistin' they fingers
I swerve in the Double R, keep me a banger (yeah)
Couple snow bunnies, they stay in Topanga
Brushin' my WAP with some toothpaste (toothpaste)
Vvs on my gums, ain't no tooth fake (tooth fake)
R.i.p. Nip, need a blue Wraith (R.I.p.)
These diamonds HD like a Blu-Ray (HD)
She eat out the kid like a buffet (yeah)
I been raw as fuck, you just too late, yeah (yeah, yeah)

Slurp it up, bitch, make it messy (hell yeah)
When I pull up, you hear the 'Vette (hell yeah, skrrt)
Baguettes, they fall off my neck (hell yeah, for real)
I'm smoking that Za to the chest (hell yeah, dig)
Ran that shit up off the muscle (I ran that shit up)
Walk with the Glock, I don't tussle (walk with the fuckin' Glock)
Niggas talk shit, it ain't nothing (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Three hundred all cash how I'm coming (hell yeah)

Your bitch blew me like a whistle (whew)
I keep me two pistols, I feel just like Texas Ranger (bah)
Know that I keep me some missiles (gang)
Won't be hard to hit you, lil' bitch, I ain't gotta aim (yeah, okay)
Know that I drip in Versace, Armani my body (yeah)
Lil' bitch, it ain't got a stain (yeah, woo)
I count hundreds and fifties
I take your lil' two cents to Johnny and buy me a new chain
Every day is a movie, I keep me some clips
Lil' nigga, I shoot 'em like Blu-Ray (yeah)
My lil' baby flyin' like
She up in the skies, she up like a Blue Jay (yeah, yeah)
Just bought an AP and deep dished that bitch with a red face (yeah, yeah)
Heard niggas in the streets talking, I ain't worried 'bout what the dead say

Slurp it up, bitch, make it messy (hell yeah)
When I pull up, you hear the 'Vette (hell yeah, skrrt)
Baguettes, they fall off my neck (hell yeah, for real)
I'm smoking that Za to the chest (hell yeah, dig)
Ran that shit up off the muscle (I ran that shit up)
Walk with the Glock, I don't tussle (walk with the fuckin' Glock)
Niggas talk shit, it ain't nothing
Three hundred all cash how I'm coming (hell yeah, yeah)

Slurp it up, bitch, make it messy (hell yeah)
When I pull up, you hear the 'Vette (hell yeah, skrrt)
Baguettes, they fall off my neck (hell yeah, for real)
I'm smoking that Za to the chest (hell yeah, dig)
Ran that shit up off the muscle (I ran that shit up)
Walk with the Glock, I don't tussle (walk with the fuckin' Glock)
Niggas talk shit, it ain't nothing
Three hundred all cash how I'm coming (hell yeah)