Beat the Case
Lyrics
(Pooh, you a fool for this one)
Scariest shit you've ever dreamed
.30 out the window with that .30 worst you've ever seen
With us, are you in it? Ain't no in between
Loaded but we focused
Bro and them done slid the last fifty weeks
He thought shit was sweet
Bite through with it now he missing teeth
Give him a forever sleep
Ask him, niggas know it's 2020
How Kentucky killed more niggas than Corona?
I can't see my aim bogus, I'ma have to walk up on him
The triple cross, ask him if he helped us whack his homie
I know Von gon' hold it even if he had to eat bologna
He ain't no scary, on his holster leave a nigga shirt holey
Then right up to God
Mr. Spin them all in a different car
Tryna get it finished up we spinnin' tryna end the war
Ready and out here coaching his little soldier, wish I listened more
Trappin' and I'm mackin', still got many in the kitchen drawers
Cross the country I connect the plugs, I'm the extension cord
I'm a real boss ain't no way we stand on equal floor
I'm a be right here for sure
Just hit me if you need some more
Interior cherry clan inside a Lamb' (yeah)
Remember when I got you out that jam? (yeah)
Who ain't let it cram?
Who ain't sit outside them niggas houses 3 A.M.?
Nigga, we don't do no playin'
It's oils over Xans, like it's Bookies over Za'
More than twenty gang members when I push inside a spot
We them niggas that's on God
Attorney want his wad
Prison priors prolly do me janky but it's MOB
Long as blood been on this job we gon' throw the lob (throw the lob)
Pour the fo's in this little ass soda pop (soda pop)
We got selections either drakey or the .40 pop
Just fucked the homies baby mama at the homies spot
Forever HGM and them until I'm slaughtered
They ask me to leave the back door open and made a offer
Sixth or seventh grade we was stampin' shit with revolvers
I can get you clipped for a trinklet on my daughter
It go hrr, nigga
I ain't sellin' the chop 'cause it got sentimental value
Usalama mandatory keep the killers 'round you
When they found him he was stiff starin' into space
With all his limbs stretched out and pellets in his face
I ain't sellin' the chop 'cause it got sentimental value
Usalama mandatory keep the killers 'round you
When they found him he was stiff starin' into space
With all his limbs stretched out and pellets in his face
Lil' bruh gon' beat the case
Use your head knowledge is power
Movin' with my stomach still clutchin' I'm feelin' funny
Rappin' got me hot but I'm still in it, bro, dealin' for me
Cleaner than Easter Sunday
Cup full of Easter Pink
Hardheaded nigga, church service I went to sleep (it's fucked up)
Thankful for the addict's Perc 30's they pay the fee (for real)
What can they say to me? (What?)
It's all profit ain't no blueprint to it
Just know I stuck to it
Grab my stick glue it
I'm prepared for anything
These streets have you in a maze
In the field like Willie Mays
Been through it they feel the pain
Rap game fucked up, man, half of these niggas lame
Gimmicks, ain't agin' shit for they image I'm feelin' strange
Clarity VVS on my tint, as my wrist complete
How can I pay you for all the game God had gifted me?
Don't get it it's meant to be
Ain't no sellin' sticks 'cause I know this shit get deep
I ain't sellin' the chop 'cause it got sentimental value
Usalama mandatory keep the killers 'round you
When they found him he was stiff starin' into space
With all his limbs stretched out and pellets in his face
I ain't sellin' the chop 'cause it got sentimental value
Usalama mandatory keep the killers 'round you
When they found him he was stiff starin' into space
With all his limbs stretched out and pellets in his face
Lil' bruh gon' beat the case
Writer(s): Timothy P. Patterson, Marcellus Register, George Stone III
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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